Silent Hill 2: My Restless Dreams Fear Revisited
by BetweenheavenandHell
Summary: The revised and extended edition of my original SH2 novelisation, greater depth, better descriptions and more extra content. New PoV's throughout.
1. Chapter 1: In that Town

**Silent Hill: _My Restless Dreams_**

NB: Yes I know what you're thinking, another SH2 novelisation, how original, but bare with me, I've tried to make this a novel in every sense of the word rather than just a script of the last time I played the game, hence the various changes (layouts, times, new POV's etc), anyways, enough of my babbling, enjoy, and remember all reviews are helpful

NNB: This is the reloaded edition, in other words, since I sucked at writing when I began this some two years ago, I've decided to rewrite everything I've done so far and try again. My new plot ideas etc will remain the same, but expect better character examination, descriptions of environments etc and above all, proper grammar and more accurate spelling

Chapter 1: In that Town…

**_In my restless dreams I see that town, silent hill. You promised you'd take me again some day… but you never did. Well I'm alone here now. In our 'special place'… Waiting for you. _**

I got this letter three days ago, the name said _Mary_, but that's not possible, my wife's been dead three years. The dead don't talk to the living, do they? Then why am I here, staring at my own mournful reflection. It would be madness to continue, but sanity is a commodity I have precious little use for these days.

James Sunderland, a man in his early thirties, a man whose life ended three years ago, stood staring into the mirror above the public bathroom's basin, hands griping it's porcelain edges for support. The image thrown back by the mirror was of a man with short auburn and blond hair and haggard features; a man burnt out by life and left for dead.

_Is this really me? _he thought running his fingers over his worn features.

Turning from the mirror James walked out of the run down bathroom with its peeling paint, rusty pipes and dirt encrusted floor and into the biting cold of the September air. Up ahead the road next to the bathroom ran into a tunnel, the only road into the sleepy resort town, known as Silent Hill.

The only road, and it was blocked.

Even in the mounting fog James could see the crudely constructed barrier that cut off the town from the rest of the world.

Why would the town's people cut themselves off in this way? What secrets could they wish to hide in such a tranquil place? Luckily James knew of a different way into town, there was a path that led from here, past Toluca Lake to the north and into town.

He and Mary had travelled this path when they had visited the town all those years ago to stand and stare out at the lake from the observation balcony by the tunnel. Past the trees to his right James could see the lake, the source of the mist that swamped the area this late in the year, he and Mary had spent many pleasant evenings by that lake…

"Mary", he said out loud, his whispered tones thundering in the stillness, "Could you really be here? Where are you waiting? 'Our Special Place'? Do you mean the lake, the park where we watched the sun rise or the hotel?".

Walking over to where his car was parked James opened the door and retrieved the map of the town from the passenger seat. He didn't think he'd get lost, he'd been to this place so very many times, both in person and in his dreams, but…

James glanced at the towering rickety construct that barred his way into town, just visible in the mounting fog.

One could never be to careful, right?

"Says the man who came to town on an invite from the dead", he muttered without a trace of the ready humour he once remembered possessing.

He hesitated for a moment over taking the keys, suppose someone stole the car?

_Steal the car_, James thought, the soft shake of his head setting auburn and blonde hair, just long enough to move freely, swaying with the motion, _Who, I've seen no one since I got on this road_.

Leaving the keys and closing the door, something about that thought tugging at the back of his mind, James walked over to the stone observation balcony, letting memory guide his feet through the increasing white haze.

A rusty, coin operated set of binoculars was all that adorned the balcony, seeming very alone against the dark stone. James toyed with the idea of looking through them, for old times sake, but a quick inspection showed they had long since rusted in place, pointing straight down the stone steps adjoining the platform and into town.

Besides, he'd used the last of his spare change on a burnt cup of coffee at a gas station further up the highway, but still he felt a pang of disappointment. The debasement by nature of a cherished memory was not how he would have liked to start this journey.

Slowly James made his way down the stairs, his footsteps echoing eerily in the unnatural silence, not a bird, car, voice or gust of wind broke the solitude.

A shudder shuck James' body as he stepped off the last step and onto a shrubbery lined dirt track. Even in his favourite grey sweater and thick green bomber jacket the cold cut through his protective layers to seep into the skin beneath. Pulling his jacket tightly closed against the cold he trudged onward through the now blinding fog, only the crunch of dirt under his shoes for company.

_Was this trail always so quiet_, he wondered idly, trying to recall the details of his last visit but failing. Everything was obscured in his mind by the gentle presence of his wife, overlain over each image.

A rustling in the bushes snapped his eyes round and froze him on the spot. He waited, listening for the noise to be repeated, heart inexplicably pounding in his chest, but nothing happened.

From were he stood there didn't seem to be anything there and he felt strangely reluctant to move in for a closer look.

_I'm just nervous, I'm hearing things, _he rationalised, refusing to allow that train of thought to continue any further.

Eyes locked forward he moved on, his pace notably faster than before.

Another rustling, closer this time, sounded from behind him. Resisting the urge to panic James sped up to a jog.

_Why am I running? I've been here so many times before, what could I possibly have to be scared of?_

It was probably just a harmless forest creature or stray dog. There weren't even any bears or other such animals in these woods, that was why he was such an idyllic tourist spot… so why was he so afraid?

A crashing came from directly behind him, like the sound of something too large to be a dog tearing through the undergrowth.

James broke into a full sprint, arms and legs pumping together to drive him recklessly through the fog.

Fear spurred him on long past the point he would normally have stopped due to exhaustion. Eventually the trees and fog gave way to a clearing ringed by stone, a huge wrought iron gate looming out of the mist to bar his way.

Coming to a reluctant halt he wrapped his hands around the bars and shoved with all his might, the itchy, prickling sensation in the centre of his back, that ancient survival mechanism that saved our ancestors from danger in a once savage land flaring erratically.

The gate swung open with startling speed, costing James his balance and nearly dropping him flat on his face. Swinging round he slammed it closed and backed away slowly, he gaze never wavering from the impenetrable white beyond the bars, but nothing came out.

As his breathing gradually returned to normal he felt his face flushing with chagrin, here he was a grown man fleeing from noises in the woods like a frightened child.

His lips twitched into a smile as the absurdity of it hit home. Shaking his head gently and muttering light admonishments upon himself, he turned to face his new environment, his smile dying as he took in the scene before him.

A graveyard.

"This is… where is this?"

James had never seen this place before, he must have taken a wrong turn somewhere in his panicked flight. Walking over to a moss-covered headstone he brushed the dirt away, as if he would find a handy guide carved into the final resting place of the one buried here.

The name was unreadable, eroded by years of wind and rain. So very old… so then why had he never been here before? He was sure he and Mary had walked all of these trails, and his somewhat occult obsessed wife would never have let them walk past such a place unchecked.

Perhaps obsessed was too harsh, but Mary had always loved tails of anything spiritual or supernatural, the older and more obscure the better.

In fact, hadn't she once told him something about-

A soft sob from near by caught his attention, and that's when he saw her, as if materialising out of the fog, or perhaps it had just grown thinner over the past few minutes he had been lost in thought.

Crouched over by another poorly kept headstone was a young woman. Dressed in a beige turtleneck sweater and brown trousers, her shoulder length black hair and shoulders shook gently in time with her sobs.

"Excuse me", James said moving round to get a view of her face.

Letting out a stifled gasp she stood and scrabbled back a few paces, fear and confusion playing over her pretty features.

"I'm sorry to startle you" James continued apologetically, "Are you ok?"

"I'm, I'm sorry I, yes I'm fine, thank you," she said uncertainly edging alternatively toward and away from him, her hands clutching at each other and then breaking apart, as if she wanted nothing more than to hug herself fiercely, but was afraid to do so in front of someone.

"Good", James said projecting reassurance into his voice, vaguely aware his voice had changed to that of an adult addressing a child but unable to explain why, "I'm James, and you are…"

"Angela", she answered softly taking a step away from him, turning her head so that she only saw him from the corner of her eye.

"What are you doing here Angela?" he asked carefully, glancing around to see if there was anyone accompanying this… unusual, young woman.

"I'm looking for my mama", she replied walking around to place the headstone she had been kneeling by between the two of them, "I mean my mother, she was supposed to be here but I can't find her anywhere. My… father and brother are here to, I guess… What about you, why are you here?"

"Me?", James asked pointing to himself, beginning to pace slowly as he spoke to stop the sense of loss he still felt for his dead wife crossing his features and making his reason for being here seem doomed or foolish at best, "I'm looking for someone, someone very dear to me… is this the right way into town?".

"Yes, it is," said Angela moving unwillingly from behind the tombstone as James turned to leave without waiting for her confirmation, already blind to any concern he might have been feeling for this distraught stranger as his own grief kicked in, and calling out to stop him, "but this…this town…it's, it's not, um, it's not…right, there's something wrong with it".

"Is it dangerous?" he asked stopping, concern entering his voice, his brow wrinkling.

"No" she answered slowly as if unsure she knew how to answer him, "Not exactly, its just that-".

"It doesn't matter", James cut her off, "I'm going anyway, I've nothing left to lose".

When Angela didn't answer he walked away into the fog and soon found him self at the gate on the opposite side of the graveyard. Looking back he could just make out Angela's pensive silhouette.

Part of him felt a little ashamed for leaving her alone, but there probably wasn't anything he could do, and besides…

What harm could possibly come to anyone here of all places?

Pulling back the gates he stepped back onto the forest trail.

For the next few minutes he strolled boldly along the misted trail, woodland eventually giving way to the rural outskirts of the town. His encounter with the mysterious young woman Angela had laid to rest some of his concerns about how abandoned everything seemed, the presence of another human being in this place banishing quiet fears mounting in the back of his mind.

However as he ventured further into the town's outskirts this soon became little comfort. Each lonely hut and log-constructed home he passed seemed to stare back with empty glass eyes.

_Where is everyone?,_ he thought, suppressing a fresh surge of dread.

Perhaps they were all attending some town event, yes that was it, it had to be… but if that were the case why couldn't he hear any signs of celebration?

Gradually, rustic charm gave way to a more urban design. Run down buildings with smashed windows and rusted barbwire fences enclosed the path as he made his way further into town.

_The side the Tourists are never supposed to see_, he mused absently, intent on his destination.

Travelling swiftly down each twisting alleyway and path, finding only dead ends everywhere he soon began to despair ever find a way into town and hope of finding his way out vanished as he rapidly became lost.

Stumbling around yet another bend he was surprised to find himself on a small road over looking a large canal to the right, the very faint sounds of running water echoing back up the artificial ravine.

He was close to Sanders Street he realised suddenly, pulling his map out of his pocket. Yes there it was, Sanders Street, from there he could travel north up Lindsey Street to Rosewater Park and hopefully, to Mary.

Folding the map quickly he stuffed it roughly into a pocket and broke into a swift jog onto Sanders Street.

_Hold on Mary_ he thought desperately as he ran, _I'm coming_.

The further he ran the more he recognised his surroundings. There was the flower shop he had brought a rose for Mary on their last trip to the park, it was all coming back to him, there just ahead was the intersection he sort, just a little further and-

Without warning his feet abruptly flew out from beneath him and found himself being rather vigorously introduced to the road. Bouncing and rolling roughly to a stop James lay there for a while massaging his aching limbs.

Slowly he eased himself to his feet and glared down at what had tripped him.

A long smear of dark red fluid curved out of site around the corner of Sanders and Lindsey before vanishing into the fog. Already sure of the answer but unable stop himself, James eased forward, bending to scrape some of the substance off the tarmac he raised his trembling hand back to his face.

_My God_, he thought his stomach twisting sickeningly, _Blood_.

Suddenly the silence of the town took on a much more sinister edge. What had happened here?

Movement from the corner of his eye brought his head up sharply. Further down the street a shadowy figure stumbled into the fog in the direction of bloodstain and was soon swallowed by the fog as if it had never been.

"Hello", he shouted in a strangled voice but the figure was gone and no one answered.

Had that been another person, Angela perhaps? Why didn't they answer? Taking a deep, calming breath, James began to move down the street, he had to go this way to get to the park any way. Could that be where the other was going as well? Could it have been Mary!

Moving a bit faster he tried to watch every shop and house he passed, to find any sign of other life, but every building remained quiet, dormant, happy family homes, homes that should have been ripe with laughter and noise, a hollow mockery of their former selves. Another intersection came into view on the left, blocked by police barricades.

_What were these people trying to protect themselves from_?

Forcing himself onward he could see something ahead, a kind of rise in the road followed by a sharp dip. As he got closer he saw that the road ahead had collapsed!

For a long time James stood there, _How do I reach the park now?_ he thought.

He was reaching once more for his map when he saw it. Another bloodstain branching off down another narrow side street. Every part of him screamed that he should leave now, while the path back was open but he found himself moving forward on leaden feet.

Slowly he followed the winding path, anticipating and dreading each streak of crimson fluid that drew him on, guided him like ghastly arrows. All to soon they came to an end at the entrance to partially boarded tunnel. A low hissing sound came from its darkened interior, drawing him ever closer.

Standing at the opening him peered into the gloom, the hissing was louder now, it was definitely emanating from the tunnel.

Stepping threw a hole in the barrier James felt around the floor as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. Eventually his hands encountered a small, cold, rectangular object. Picking it up he held it to the light, examining it.

It was a small pocket radio, dropped when or by whom he had no idea. Turning the tuning dial he held it to his ear but it continued to spit nothing but static. Perhaps it was broken.

Standing there with nothing but a defective radio to show for his troubles thus far, James felt a mixture of annoyance and embarrassment replace the quiet dread he had been feeling following the trail of gore.

"Probably wasn't blood to start with", he stated, as if vocalising his thoughts gave them greater weight, running a hand through hair already slick with sweat, "Get a hold of yourself James…"

Hitting the power button he began to turn to leave, but the tunnel didn't sink into the expected silence. Without the distracting crackling of the radio he was now aware of another noise, a kind of wet tearing and slurping.

Rotating stiffly to face the sound his adjusted eyes could now see its source. Crouched over the lifeless, deformed body of what might once have been one of the townsfolk was a…thing. That was the only way James could think to describe it, its outline was vaguely female but that was were its similarity to a human being ended.

Two legs of charred flesh poked out from beneath a torso and head that seemed to be covered by a burned plastic sheet. Its 'mouth' was the only exception, all of its unnatural size covered in warm, fresh blood, steam rising in delicate wisps from both body and monster in the chill air.

As if sensing someone watching it, it stood and turned to regard him.

James froze with fear, maybe if he didn't move it would leave him and return to its meal.

Ponderously it began to move toward him on stiff and awkward legs, its entire body twitching unnaturally in the grip of some powerful seizure.

Frantically he scrabbled backwards until his back hit the barrier, spinning round he grabbed a loose piece of wood and yanked it free with a panic driven tug.

Turning back showed that the creature was closer now and still coming. Raising the plank above his head he brought it down on the monster's cranium with all of his might. A sickening thud and crack brought the thing to its knees, its head splitting open like an over ripe watermelon, splattering the ground with its unspeakable contents.

Slowly it slumped over, thrashing wildly before gradually becoming still. It was then; as he stood there shaking and breathing raggedly that the smell hit him. It was like all the worst smells in the world combined, the smell of a corpse. Restraining the urge to vomit over himself, James scrabbled out of the hole and back into the meagre light offered through the mist.

"What was that thing", he said aloud, shaking so badly that he dropped both his impromptu weapon and the pocket radio. Landing on its side depressed the radio's power button and it promptly sprang to life with a burst of static.

However something was different this time, through the hissing he could almost make out a voice. Stooping to retrieve it he turned up the volume and listened closely.

"…James I'm here….aiting for you….why…".

"Mary? Mary!" he shouted, shaking the radio, "What's wrong with this thing, is it broken… I better keep it anyway".

Realising he was talking to himself and still trembling from the adrenaline rush of his recent… encounter, he pocketed the radio and hefted the plank he had defended himself with over one shoulder.

It had been an unconscious decision to carry it with him but after what he had just seen… He had to find Mary fast, she was all alone out there, one of these streets had to lead to the park. Making his way cautiously back out onto Lindsey Street, James peered as far ahead into the mist as he could, but no further abominations lunged from the fog to assault him, the silence was once more unbroken. Moving carefully along the pavement he crept his way along the road, the houses that had seem so sorrowful moments earlier now seemed pits of hidden menace. Slowly he reached the first junction and came to a halt, the safe, secure police barricades had been knocked aside leaving the way open.

For long, paranoid moments he stood trying to figure out his next move. With this street open he could get to the next street much quicker and hopefully to the park, but what if another of those creatures had opened it?

Deciding that speed was paramount he flung himself down the street with wild abandon and round the corner as soon as possible. Houses and shop fronts flashed past but he took no heed. All to soon he found himself face to face with another barrier. Not a simple roadblock or hastily nailed together patch job, but a towering construction formed from corrugated steel sheets wielded together.

James hammered against the steel wall with his plank in anger until he was exhausted. Panting he leaned against it, frustration churning his insides.

A familiar stench invaded his nostrils.

Spinning about he searched the mist desperately and soon located the smells origin. Not another monster as he'd feared, but yet another of the townsfolk, his head half chewed away, a blood stained diary in his hands. For reasons he could not comprehend he found himself reaching for the book, perhaps it would hold answers as to what happened here.

With an effort, James was able to prise the book from his cold, ridged fingers. The first few pages were stained red and illegible but soon he found a few undated pages that had been used;

_There's no way out, I've been everywhere, the apartments where you said you'd meet me but never di,d everywhere. God they're everywhere, I got to find a way out!_

_Apartments?_ thought James, _Could he mean the Woodside building, what could be there?_

_It's no use, I went back there, to find you, to get out, but I couldn't open the door, you must have been there! Only you have the key, if I know you, you'll try to reach your house, our rendezvous point on Martin Street, I'll have to stay at Neely's Bar again, its getting dark, that'll make it easier to find me, I'll try to meet you tomorrow…_

…_I went the wrong way, now I'm lost, I can hear them in the distance, getting closer, oh please god help me. If anyone finds this, if you want to stay alive, remember, they are drawn to the light, to noise, if you want to stay safe lock yourself in the dark and stay quiet…but even that won't save you, they always find you eventually…_

_RUNAWAY!RUNAWAY!RUNAWAY!RUNAWAY!RUNAWAY!RUNAWAY!RUNAWAY!RUNAWAY!RUNAWAY!RUNAWAY!RUNAWAY!RUNAWAY!RUNAWAY!RUNAWAY!RUNAWAY!_

The rest of the pages were blank. Dropping the diary by the corpse he traced his weary way down the street, reading his map as he went. Troubled thoughts ran through his head as he walked, if the townsfolk hadn't known what was happening and been able to escape what chance did he have?

A fresh wave of guilt washed through him, Mary was out there to and he was worrying only about himself.

Focusing on the map searched for his next destination. Martin Street was the next one over. Folding the map back up he placed it in a pocket. Now that he wasn't running blind he took notice of his surroundings. Slightly ahead was an old pickup truck, door ajar, keys glinting softly from the ignition.

A car would be a much safer way of travelling through this crazy place.

He was all of a few feet from the truck when a twisted figure shot out from beneath it and with a cry of pure agony vanished into the fog. Instinct took over that instant and James was once more charging blindly toward his destination. Another creature loomed out of the fog ahead but he dodged around it and kept running. Whipping around the corner and into Martin Street he barely avoided another lurking in a shadowed shop doorway. Each breath burned his lungs but he refused to stop. Ahead he could see a house with an open door.

Flinging himself through it, the last entry in the diary he had found echoing through his mind;

_RUNAWAY!RUNAWAY!RUNAWAY!RUNAWAY!RUNAWAY!RUNAWAY!RUNAWAY!RUNAWAY!RUNAWAY!RUNAWAY!RUNAWAY!RUNAWAY!RUNAWAY!RUNAWAY!RUNAWAY!_

Turning he slammed it shut and back-pedalled rapidly.

Suddenly his back collided with something; something damp that came away in his hands. Turning with baited breath he found himself face to face with eyeless sockets leering out from a partially devoured face. James' lunch was expelled violently over his shoes, doubling him over with wrenching. When his stomach was empty he wiped his mouth roughly on his sleeve and looked up at the defiled corpse suspended he now saw by a thick brown rope tied about it's neck and to the guardrail attached to the upstairs gallery area. Its hands were frozen in front of its face as if it had tried to protect itself from what ever had attacked it. This person had still been alive when he was attacked.

A glint from one of its hands caught his eye.

Reaching out James opened its hand and withdrew a small steel item engraved with the letters 'WS'.

It was a key.

Some part of James' mind was trying to tell him he knew who this person had been but he refused acknowledge it, it was just a coincidence that this person had a key to the Woodside apartments, there were others like him out there…somewhere.

* * *

Silent Hill.

Angela felt strange being back in this town. A place she had been running from for so long.

There were many bad people here, but she couldn't leave before she found here mama, found her and told her…what? It hurt her head to try and remember.

A noise from behind her spun her on the spot, arms hugging each other for protection.

_Stupid, stupid_, she thought, she had to keep moving, if she didn't…He, would find her.

She hadn't seen him yet but she knew he was there, had been since she had talked to that man, what was his name… James.

Shivering in the cold September air Angela looked up again at the building in front of her. The faded lettering on the steel mesh fence in front of it read 'Woodside, Blue Creak joint apartment buildings'.

If her mother was anywhere in this town then surely she would be here, in the apartment she and Angela had lived in after- Pain ripped through Angela's head almost toppling her.

What seemed like an eternity latter it subsided. Wiping a tear from one eye with the rough palm of her hand she pushed back the rusted steel gate and walked up to the entrance to Woodside apartments.

One hand held hesitantly over the handle.

Should she really go inside? She knew it would only mean more pain but that would happen now anyway thanks to that James, coming here, interfering with things best left alone.

He was a bad, bad man.

Pushing open the door Angela stepped cautiously inside. It was just as she remembered. A tastefully decorated lobby area greeted her painted in bright white and blue hues, luscious flora adorned the area scattered sparingly across the room.

On the far wall a freshly varnished staircase spiralled up into darkness. The lights must not be working on the landings up there. Reluctantly she turned to look at her destination. Standing out jarringly against the pastel purity of the rest of the lobby was a single rotten door. Cracked wood surrounded by blacked peeling paint sat sullenly in the far corner of the room as if trying to cringe away from the light.

Above the door an age-worn sign read, 'Courtyard and Blue Creak'. Taking a deep, calming breath, Angela pulled back the door.

* * *

'Woo-s-de –par—ment-' was all of the sign James could make out but he was pretty sure this was the place. Bracing a shoulder against the rusted gate he shoved it open with a nerve-grinding screech of steel on concrete.

Glancing nervously up and down the street he slipped through and closed it to again. It had taken him an hour to work up the courage to leave that house and his silent host. An hour of trying to deny the obviousness of the truth, he was all alone here. When he had finally been able make himself leave he had emerged into a world utterly different than that which he had expected.

A world of emptiness.

The creatures he had feared were lurking round every corner were nowhere to be seen, no threatening growls stalked his footsteps. The silence was deafening. But where had they gone, had they even existed? Or were they just a fevered delusion of his grief-ridden mind.

Reaching out, James went to open the apartment door, but before he got to the handle the door swung ponderously open. It was the smell that hit James first, one of the sewage pipes must have ruptured somewhere covering the floor in random puddles of dank, fowl smelling water.

Age-blackened, peeling paint covered the walls and a creaky looking staircase led upwards on the two different, sparsely lit, landings above. Stepping carefully across the room to the only door accessible at that his current level he turned the handle.

The door's latch mechanism let out a high-pitched squeal but the door itself didn't budge.

Stepping back a few paces James charged at the door full force, and ricocheted harmlessly away again.

_Wow_, thought James, massaging his throbbing shoulder, _That door's jammed good. I guess the only way left is up_.

Slowly he made his way up the stairs to the first landing, stairs groaning dangerously under his weight. James let out a sigh of relief when he finally placed his feet firmly on the second floor landing.

The second floor doorway was made of sturdy looking steel that had accumulated a little rust around the push-bar but otherwise seemed ok.

Giving it an experimental push it refused to budge.

_Ok_ he thought irritably, beginning to sense a pattern, _one left_.

Trekking the rest of the distance to the third level he didn't pause, simply placed a foot on the door's bar and lashed out with all his strength.

The door flew open and hit the opposite side of the wall its hinges were attached to with resounding force.

Wincing at his own headstrong carelessness, James stuck his head into the corridor. Cheap neon lighting sputtered fitfully on and off casting random shadows along the deserted hallway.

James went to heft his weapon but realised suddenly that he hadn't brought it with him, it was still lying at the feet of the corpse back in Martin Street. Cursing himself silently he began tracing his way down the corridor, one hand kept on the wall, using its solidarity to reassure him.

Door after door he past, and each one, like its fellows, was locked or inexplicably bared in someway.

Just as he was about to abandon hope and return to the lobby when he found it. The final door in the row opened with barely a noise and James couldn't resist gaping as he strode inside.

Lit by a small torch the room was in an advanced state of disrepair and decay, but this was not what drew his attention. Tiny holes puckered every wall and surface and James soon saw why. Lying discarded in an abandoned shopping trolley was a smallish handgun.

Gathering the torch and fastening it to his jacket he picked up the gun and examined it carefully. James was by no means a gun expert, in fact everything he knew of guns came straight out of the detective shows he sometimes watched on television, but with a bit of fumbling he found the clip release and hit it. Nothing happened. Frowning he pushed it again with the same result. Turning it upside down he found his answer, there was no magazine in the gun.

James' face scrunched up with disappointment, he might not know how to use a gun but he would have felt safer. Still it was his only weapon so tucking it behind his belt like the cops on T.V did he made to leave, plunging the room behind him into darkness.

A scuttling from down the corridor made him pause and listen closely, but the sound wasn't repeated. Edging back into the hallway he shone his torch down its length, but its comforting light revealed nothing. Walking back down the corridor he stopped when his torch illuminated something he hadn't seen before. Just opposite the stairwell door the corridor was blocked by a large iron grating, and just beyond that, lying just in reach, was a key.

Crouching down, James reached out for it, but it was no use, the key was just out of reach. Unwilling to concede defeat he lay prone on the floor, straining through the bars as far as possible he stretched toward it, his fingers brushing it.

_Nearly,_ he thought, face contorted with effort.

A pink sandaled foot lashed out to hit the key bare millimetres before he could reach it, sending it bouncing musically down the hall. James glared up at his erstwhile tormentor, his face twisting with frustration, straight into the eyes of a little girl.

Surprise more than anything relaxed the muscles in his face, leaving him with an oddly slack jawed expression. The little girl, no more than seven or eight years old, was dressed in a blue denim dress over a long sleeved, striped jumper, her long blond hair tied out of the way of her youthful features in a simple ponytail, features that were currently lit up in the grin all children display when they get away with something they know is wrong.

"Haha", she said, her innocent laughter mocking both James and the desolate decay around him. Turning around she ran, soon vanishing from the pitiful scope of light offered by James' torch and the hallways failing lighting.

"Wait", he called into the darkness, "Its not safe, come back".

No answer came back.

After what he had seen in his short, but eventful, jaunt around town he had not expected to find anyone else alive, least of all a child. Dusting himself off, James considered his options, there didn't seem to be anyway past these bars on this floor and a quick check of the other doors he could access showed he would be unable to climb over the adjoining balconies of the apartments and get past that way.

The balcony in the apartment he could enter was sealed off by a large steel frame he was unable to move.

James was coming to the conclusion that he was out of options when he spotted the silhouette of someone standing on the third floor balcony.

"Hello" he said, his voice coming out soft and strangled. The shadow disappeared and the sound of footsteps on wood echoed from the stairwell.

"Wait", he cried out, giving chase. A grinding of steel on steel sounded from somewhere below him and the footsteps began to fade into the distance. Running full pelt down the stairs, ignoring their ominous creaking, he rounded the first turn in the stairwell. From this position he could now see that the second floor door was open. Rapidly crossing the remaining distance he had just enough time to see a female outline before he crashed into something cold and hard.

Rolling roughly to the ground he found the unknown object had somehow ended up atop him. Panicking he grabbed it and thrust it away from him, scrabbling to his feet he pointed his torch at where it lay.

A headless dressmakers dummy lay rigid and unassuming about a foot away.

Feeling his face flush James walked over and set it upright against the wall. He was about to leave when the clothes it modelled caught his eye. A pink cardigan covered a white dress decorated faintly with flowers.

_Exactly like those Mary used to wear_, he thought stroking a woollen sleeve sadly.

For a moment he forgot to question just how such a thing came to be here…

A blood-curdling scream, cut off abruptly, pierced his melancholy and broke him out of his quiet reflection. Pulse pounding in his ears, James found his feet drawn inexplicably toward its source.

Perhaps it was morbid curiosity that drew him on, or perhaps the constant level of fear he had experienced since coming to this accursed place had driven him mad, looking back he would never be sure, but something moved his feet.

A piercing burst of static erupted from his pocket. Still drawn closer, he removed it from his pocket and examined it as he walked. Screeching as if under the sway of pure terror it spat white noise from its tiny speaker at an alarming volume.

James tried to turn it off but found that it already was. Soon however this was forgotten. As he had walked James hadn't noticed the slow change in light source, the slow change from a dirty white to a blood red. A light that came not from the pitiful lights above but from the creature that now stood before him. Separated from James by iron bars like those on the floor above it looked vaguely like a man garbed in a melted plastic trench coat, if said man had a liking for giant, pyramidal, steel helmets.

Warped, rusted and twisted steel enclosed the thing's head giving off a faint crimson light. Although he couldn't see its eyes, James knew intuitively it was looking at him. With a shriek of stressed metal as if it's very bones were made of the same twisted substance, it turned its head to look at something on the floor.

Following its gaze James breath caught in his throat. Revealed by the creature's unearthly glow were bloody handprints, handprints that smeared the floor and lower walls around a shattered door.

"NOOO!" an agonised voice reverberated through his skull. Hand clapping to his head, James spun back to the creature, but it was gone and with it its eerie light, plunging everything unlit by his torch back into darkness.

_My god_, he thought, _what was that_?

Shinning his torch at the floor he traced the bloody handprints deeper into the apartment. Darkly decorated in simple browns and greens the apartment reeked of rot and of something else, a scent he had become uncomfortably used to in his time here.

Quiet static hissed in the darkness but a quick check showed that its source was not his radio but a moderately sized TV in the corner of the room, and in front of that TV, in the apartments only visible furniture, a small armchair, was the town's latest victim.

Head lolling over the back of the armchair as if to watch James with death glazed eyes, James needed to approach no closer to see what had killed him. A large vertical slash was gouged into the back of the chair, blood creating a hauntingly intricate waterfall on its way to the floor.

Gently, James closed the corpse's eyes with a surprisingly steady hand, no one should have to view this horror for eternity.

A loud crash sounded from the other room. Running in, ignoring his natural urge to flee, James shone the torch frantically around the room. A large grandfather cloak lay on its side against the wall, and where it had obviously been was a gaping hole.

Cautiously, James approached the hole and shone his torch through. The apartment on the other side was as deserted as this one, no sign of who, or what for that matter might have made the hole or smashed the cloak.

Stepping through, grunting as his shoulders scrapped along the edges of the broken dry wall, James played his light along the dusty contours of the room finding nothing but broken furniture.

_What am I doing?_, he thought as he located the rooms entrance and stepped warily into the corridor, _Chasing monsters through darkened halls, deserted towns, murders_.

That word echoed oddly through his skull, stirring something unpleasant just at the edge of his consciousness. Dismissing it as nerves he carried on, of course he had a reason to do this, "Mary…".

* * *

---Authors Notes---

So there we have it folks, the reworked and extended Chapter One, I'm working on Chapter two and three as we speak, so expect those shortly. Hopefully this version flows better than the original, but let me know what you all think. Review button's there for a reason amigo's hehe.

Till next time, Betweenheavenandhell


	2. Chapter 2: Quality Living

Chapter 2: Quality Living at Affordable Prices

Her breath came raggedly now, her lungs burned and her legs ached, but she was nearly there.

"Mama", she wheezed, the effort stripping the last lingering drops of moisture from her throat, "I'm coming mama… please don't run away again….I'm…sorry".

Icy fingers slid through her hair, tightening, trying to stop her, to drag her away when she was so close. Ducking her head she ran faster and before she knew it, almost before she had time to stop and avoid slamming into the wall at the end of the corridor, she was there. Angela let out a short laugh, a laugh that was dangerously underpinned by madness. She had made it, he had tried to stop her but she had made it. Her trembling hand gripped the doorknob to make sure it was real and it greeted her with a reassuring coolness.

"I'm here", she said softly, tears flowing down her cheeks.

Flinging the door open she burst inside, "Mama! I'm here Mama… Mama?".

The room was empty.

"Mama", she whimpered softly, her voice small and child-like.

A loud scratching came from the door. Something brutal and terrible trying desperately, clawing feverishly, trying to get inside.

"No", she sobbed, "No!".

Angela ran to the apartments only other door and pushed it open, slamming it behind her. Backing slowly away trying to stifle her sobs she didn't notice the thing at her feet until she tripped over it.

Pain jolted through her as she hit the floor. Pulling herself back into a sitting position Angela looked for what had tripped her.

There, in the centre of the floor was a stuffed bear, its remaining eye hanging like a small black tear down the side of its face and a large, bloody kitchen knife protruding from its chest.

Shaking hands reached to grasp the handle and pull the knife free. Angela cradled the cool weight of the blade in her hands, long suppressed memories flooding back, bringing with them new tears.

"I'm sorry", she said between sobs, "I didn't… I shouldn't have…I'm sorry".

Curling up into a ball Angela rolled over and found her self face to face with her own tear stained reflection.

"Mama… I'm sorry, I….", Angela watched the hypnotic light playing along the knifes razor edge, her reflection watching her keenly as if paralleling her thoughts and urging her on. A slow creaking came from behind her. Angela curled up tighter, stifling her whimpers, her eyes never leaving the blade.

It wouldn't matter if she cried or not…

"Angela?"

* * *

With a deep intake of breath she sat up on the cot, panic clouding her mind as she tried to remember where she was.

The room was small, barely big enough to hold the writing desk, pot plant and coffee table that were its only furnishings apart from the fold up cot on which she sat and still retain room to move around. Business like notes and files covered the desk in haphazard piles, not speaking well of the organisational skill of who ever owned this…office, yes that description seemed to best suit the room.

Standing on unsteady legs she half walked, half stumbled to the room's sole window. Try as she might she couldn't pierce the fog that seemed to encircle everything outside.

Where the hell was she, what was this place? Turning away from the window she banged her shin on the coffee table. Biting out a silent curse she hobbled back to the cot and sat down.

What was going on? How had she got here…Who was she?

The world seemed to lurch abruptly, the light level dimming then returning to normal.

What had she being thinking… Oh yes, who was she. What a stupid question, her name was Maria of course, she had come here looking for someone, someone it was important she find… but who…

_Flicker_.

She was looking for James, but had had no luck as yet.

_Oh well_, she thought with a sigh and a cat like stretch, _Best get back to it_.

Standing she gave herself a quick look over in the office's full-length mirror. A short bob of thick blond hair fell loosely about her head, the two forelocks dyed a striking red, framing a pretty face and a naturally mischievous smile.

Her hairstyle alone would have drawn attention in most places but this was far outdone by her outfit.

Knee high boots topped by a pink leopard skin leather mini skirt sat bellow a thickish red cardigan buttoned casually to reveal her navel and a generous amount of cleavage, finally a choker imprinted with the same design as her skirt completed the outfit nestling loosely around her neck.

In the almost piratical town of Silent Hill, Maria knew how to get noticed.

Checking her make-up was immaculate as always, she strolled out of the room only stopping to cast a hopeful glance up and down the hall outside before pushing the door directly ahead open and walking through.

The door led out at the side of a small stage centred around a single runway, a thick metal pole connecting the far point of the runway to the ceiling. The only light in the room came from a pink and purple neon sign that spelt out the words 'Heavens Night' above the image of a scantily clad woman reclining casually.

Maria wove her way through the sea of randomly arranged tables and chairs and poured herself a drink from the rooms modestly stocked bar, tossing it down in one go before pouring herself another and taking a seat on the edge of the stage.

'Heavens Night' was one of Silent Hill's less reputable establishments, understandably kept out of the tourist brochures. Most women would feel uncomfortable in strip club but not Maria.

An extrovert by nature she felt quite at home here and had decided to use it as her 'base of operations' so to speak. Truth be told this was the only place she felt safe in this town, it wasn't natural for everyone in a town this big to just disappear.

Maria stared into her glass, swirling the dark brown liquid around as she thought. She had been alone ever since first waking up here. The details of how she had ended up in 'Heavens Night' were still vague but her purpose for being here was clear, James was finally back in town and she had to find him, she didn't want to be alone anymore.

Idly, she wondered what he'd think when she finally found him. Would he be shocked, happy… embarrassed?

Maria laughed quietly to herself. James was not a man she could ever picture being embarrassed by a woman…

Her hand gripped the glass a little tighter for a moment as she stared into nothing, her foot tapping impatiently.

Setting the glass down on the stage Maria made her way over to the bar's front entrance and stepped out into the biting air and ever-present mist.

'Heavens Night' was situated on the second floor of a privately owned complex so to enter or exit it, it was necessary to climb or descend a long metal staircase. Each step echoing deafeningly loud in the town's eerie silence, Maria made her way down the stairs and out onto the street.

So far she'd searched mostly the south side of the town, so that meant that it was probably time to try the north. Mentally she went over the places James might have gone in the north of town.

_Lets see, there's the apartments I guess, but James has never been there before, why would he go now? Hmmm…Of course, the park, that old romantic_.

A grin settling on her face, Maria turned left and started walking. It would be just like James to so something so unintentionally sweet.

A small shadow flickered through the fog ahead of her, _James_, she thought, no the outline was to small for James, more suited to a child, but what would a child be doing here?

"Hey you there!", she shouted but the child didn't slow, "Hey!".

Sighing with vexation, Maria increased her speed, jogging to catch up. The silhouette turned off the street, vanishing into a largish house leaving the front door slightly ajar. Maria ran through the door closing it behind her.

The lobby she found herself in was ornately decorated in gold's and creams, the owner obviously a fan of Victorian architecture. Boots squeaking on marble flooring, Maria cast a glance down the side corridor connected to the lobby and up the stairs connecting it to the upstairs balcony.

No sign of the child anywhere, _Damn this kid's fast_, she thought, mildly impressed.

The dust on the floor of the side corridor didn't seem to be disturbed but the stairs however…foot prints in the dust led upward and onto the second floor. Jogging quickly upstairs, Maria found three doors available to her though a quick check showed that only the one furthest right would open.

"I never did like hide and seek", she muttered, already growing bored, feeling the itch to leave this strange child to its own devices, but reluctantly admitting there was no way she could do that.

For all her bluster, Maria had a startling strong maternal side, that was probably why she hadn't even paused before taking off after a shadow in the fog that may or may not have been a child at all.

Opening it took considerable effort and produced a horrible grinding sound, but finally she got it move.

_How did the kid get this thing open?_ she wondered.

The sound of a slamming door up ahead drew her attention.

"Found you", she called out loud in a singsong voice, a little bit of her enthusiasm returning as her short attention span was banished.

Moving down the narrow hallway she quickly located footprints leading to a door just around the corner of the hall.

Her new found humour seemed to drain away, sucked into an invisible vortex beyond that door…

"Hello", she said, pushing the door open slowly, "Is anybody in there?".

All she saw was a deathly pale arm before the door was slammed in her face.

"Hello", she said again, more tentively, knocking the door gently, "Is anybody in there, are you ok?".

"Go away", came a gruff male voice.

"Oh thank god", Maria said, relief flooding her at the sound of another human voice, "I thought I was the only one left. What's your name, what are you doing in there?".

There was a pause, and Maria feared for a moment the other townsman had already slipped away without even waiting to hear her name.

"….Ernest, my name is Ernest, now go away"

"Don't you think it would be better if we went together, there's a lot of strange things going on in this town", she called, testing the handle and finding it held firm, probably by the man on the other side of the door.

"No I don't, just go away", he snapped in reply.

"Well have you seen a little girl?", she asked, desperation entering her tone as she gave up on trying to force the door open, he was far stronger than her it seemed, though she was sure the arm she had seen had been scrawny at best.

"…A little girl?", Ernest asked in an odd tone of voice, "What did she look like?".

"I don't know, I didn't get a clear look at her, why?"

Only silence answered. "Ernest?" she said quietly, "Are you there?".

"I'm here", he responded, "What's your name?".

"Maria", she answered, relieved that he was suddenly more talkative.

"Maria", he repeated softly, "Ok Maria, I'll help. There's a door to the left of you, I can unlock it from where I am, I found it unlocked a while ago so its possible if she's in here she came through".

A soft click sounded from the door next to her and it swung open a crack. Maria edged carefully toward it feeling strangely apprehensive.

"Maria", came Ernest's voice, "I'm going to look around, if you should find a vile of white liquid on your way, I'd appreciate you bringing it to me".

"Ok I guess", she replied, confused, "But what is it?".

Ernest didn't answer, "Ernest? Are you there?"

Maria pushed the door open and stepped into a completely empty room.

_Where did he go?_ Maria thought, she hadn't heard any other doors opening or closing.

This room was ornate as the rest of the house, dark wooden panelling lined the bottom of the walls giving a pleasing contrast to the red velvet couch and pine coffee table that were the rooms main features. A bookshelf lined one wall but all of the books seemed to be on the occult, particularly, she noted with a little unease, theories on resurrection.

_Ernest is into some very strange things_ she thought picking up one books and scanning the title, "The dark god Samuel and the Mother of God"

_What a load of nonsense_.

Dropping the book roughly on the table she pushed a strand of stray hair out of her face and looked around. There only seemed to be one way out as she quickly found Ernest's room to be locked.

_Not exactly a social guy are you_?, Maria thought wirily as she left the room.

The corridor she was now in had two sets of stairs, one leading back down onto the ground floor and one leading up into what looked like the attic.

_Lets take a wild guess which one I'm not using_, Maria thought with a barely suppressed shiver.

_The dark… stifling, no air, can't breath… Help, someone, James!_

A dark shape moved by the top of the attic stairs, darting deeper into the shadows.

"Hello", she said, moving closer, trying to locate the source of the movement while staying in the light, "It's ok I'm not going to hurt you, come down".

When no one answered Maria took a deep breath and started up the stairs, pausing ever few steps to glance back reassuringly at the light.

When she reached the top she was greeted by the soft glow of candlelight.

"What the hell?". On top of an upturned box was a half burned out candle and also, of all things, a birthday card. Picking it up to get a better look, Maria flicked it open.

_To daddy,_

_Happy birthday to the best daddy in the whole wide World_

_Love Amy_

The front of the card was a child's picture of a little girl and a grown man walking hand in hand past a large house.

_Ernest has a daughter?_.

Deciding to hold on to the card for now, Maria made her way out of the dusty attic and back onto the landing. A child's laugh came from somewhere below her. Maria lent over the edge of the banister just in time to see a sandal clad foot vanish around the corner at the bottom of the stairs.

Cursing under her breath Maria jogged down the stairs and round the corner. The laugh came again, this time from a room just ahead. Maria ran down the hall and flung the door open.

"Ha", she said out loud, forgetting the seriousness of the situation for a second, but the room was empty, "How did she…".

Maria looked around the room she found herself in, it seemed to be a library of some sort, though it had a pretty limited selection, it seemed Ernest's tastes didn't vary much from what she'd seen inside. A large oak table and work lamp sat at the centre of the room, the table was piled high with books and scrapes paper covered in incoherent scribbling. On top of the nearest pile was a small vile of white liquid.

"Is this what Ernest was after", she said to herself, picking up the vile and uncorking it, "It doesn't look like much".

Waving it slowly under her noise, she took a carefully breath, the scent of the liquid sending her into a coughing fit.

_That smells vile_, she thought, replacing the stopper and waving a delicate hand in front of herself to disperse and lingering odour.

"Maria?", came a questioning voice from behind the door on the other side of the room.

"Ernest?", she said, "What are you doing back there?".

"The door's locked on your side", he answered impatiently, ironically it appeared he didn't much appreciate being locked out by others either, "Did you find anything?".

Maria opened her mouth to tell him about the vile but remembered the card in her hand.

"Yeah, I found a birthday card".

"…Give it to me", he said abruptly, "Slide it under the door".

Frowning, Maria ducked down and pushed the card under the door. Ernest's mutters came back as he read its contents.

"Amy…she must have been carrying this when…", sobbing came from behind the door.

Maria shifted uncomfortably, "Erm, I found this as well…The white stuff you asked about".

His sobs cut off suddenly, "Really! Quickly, open the door and give it to me".

"Ok, hold on", Maria said, her unease at his sudden emotional reversal showing in her voice. With unusual hesitation Maria undid the lock and opened the door. A pale white arm and white, haggard face shot out of the darkness of the room beyond, grabbing the container from her outstretched hand and slamming the door closed again.

"Ernest", she said breathless, "You're-".

"Yes", he answered in a tired voice, "I've been this way for a long time now. Didn't even notice at first, I thought people were just giving me my space after…after Amy…then when everyone vanished I tried to look around but could never seem to go very far before I felt myself drawn back here, by the time I finally realised what was wrong I couldn't leave the house, and now…". Ernest's tired sigh echoed from behind the door, "But you can see me…that means-".

"It doesn't mean anything", she found herself snapping at him, an anger she couldn't place surging to the fore to cut off his words "Anyway, it doesn't matter, all I care about is finding James… Ernest, are you planning to do what I think your going to do with that stuff?".

"…Yes", he replied eventually, his voice both apologetic and world weary "I know its wrong but I can't live without her Maria, I just can't… Thank you, for helping me…. Maria?".

"Yeah", she answered, walking toward the door.

"That James… he's a bad, bad man", his voice full of the solemn assurance of one who has seen something they wished they never had.

A wistful, resigned smile crossed over the blonde's features, but she made no objection despite a swell of indignation at Ernest's words.

"…I know", she answered sadly.

It was sometime latter she found herself outside the entrance to Rosewater Park, staring out across the fog covered Toluca Lake, resting lightly on the cold steel guard rail that separated the path from the bank.

_So peaceful here… so pretty, I wish… I wish it could always be that way… don't you?_

"When did I say that I wonder…", Maria mused, watching the faint ripples in the water's otherwise still surface.

There was the sound of footsteps but she didn't look back, she knew exactly who was there, how could she not?

She was always waiting for him here, in this place. Just like Ernest and his daughter.

As the footsteps wound down and finally stopped, a startled exclamation came from behind her, "Mary!".

* * *

James stood on the third floor of the apartment building, staring at the door labelled 301. When he had finally worked up the courage to come up here after discovering the first floor fire exit locked he had seen something duck into this room and now couldn't decide.

Should he go in and investigate or carry on?

Since setting foot in this town he had had the sensation of being lead from one place to another like a rat in a maze, however, going back would be worse than pointless, and there really was no other option if he wished to progress…

Steeling himself, James pushed open the door and walked inside. The sight that greeted him froze him and sickened him. The pyramid headed creature he'd seen on the second floor was here, along with two others, creatures that seemed to be two sets of female legs sown crudely together swollen and cancerous, matted in blood.

However the true horror, the sight that his senses and sanity rejected with everything they could muster, was the act taking place before him.

Like some twisted parody or fever dream from the mind of Dante himself, the two smaller creatures writhed and screamed in torment beneath the unyielding weight of the Pyramid Head as it wrestled it's way between their rotten legs, blood spraying in every direction with every thrust.

The cries of the lesser things were so utterly, wrenchingly human, that James felt his throat go dry and his stomach and bowls heave with disgust and sympathetic agony.

Monsters though they may have been, James recognised on some level what was occurring.

The Pyramid Head was raping them and even these inhuman beasts were powerless to stop it.

Staggering back on numb legs James' back soon hit the wall of an open closet and he ducked down, trying desperately to stop himself vomiting even as the bizarre urge to laugh in the face of the insanity before him bubbled up his throat along with the bile.

Siding the ventilated doors closed he vomited over the interior.

_Holy shit_, he thought, wiping his mouth and trying to hold back another wave.

"This isn't happening", he babbled, clamping his hands over his ears when it sounded like one of the female creatures was actually calling for help, his eyes screwing firmly shut, "This isn't real, this… it can't…."

Eventually the protests died out, much the same way as sobbing will when a victim realises their entreaties mean nothing to their assailant, and all was still.

After so much unmarked time had passed, James dared to open his eyes, and release his ears, tentively taking in the silence. The grinding of steel on steel drew his attention, before all was silence once more, his heart leaping into his throat and drowning in the bile it found there.

Peering pensively though the closet doors slats he found himself face to face with the pyramid creature. James back-pedalled rapidly, his back colliding painfully with the rear wall. His hands scrabbled along the shelves in search of anything he could use to defend himself. His hands closed around something thin, cool and heavy.

James held it up to his face, one eye still on the monster that stood silently outside the door, the limp and lifeless leg of one of the other monsters hanging from one malformed hand.

Had it a face, James felt it would have been smiling at him.

Forcing his attention away from the way the repugnant monstrosity displayed it's handiwork as if waiting for his response, James focused once more on the object at hand.

A handgun magazine.

James couldn't believe his luck, pulling out the handgun he had found he slammed the magazine home and levelled it at the pyramid headed abomination.

The recoil as he pulled the trigger through off his aim instantly, but at this close range it hardly mattered. The bullet shattered one of the door slats before tearing into the creature's shoulder.

Blood sprayed from the wound as it let out a inhuman roar of pain and anger. Not waiting for it to recover, James fired again and again, wincing as blood and wooden splinters rained down around him.

At some point he'd begun screaming along with the monster but he barely noticed.

_Click, click_, James pulled the trigger frantically but nothing happened, he'd run out of bullets! He closed his eyes and shielded his face, waiting for the monster to strip away his flimsy wooden shield and… Nothing.

Not daring to believe what was happening, James opened his eyes. The creature was gone. Sliding the door aside he stepped out and looked around. The two creatures James had seen violated lay unmoving on the floor, blood caking their inner thighs and the floor around them.

He made to turn away when he spotted it. In the blood was a glint of silver.

He hesitated over the corpse for a moment, not wanting to get any closer to the scene of such horrific violence, but drawn never the less.

Dry wrenching, James stooped to retrieve the object. It was a key, the attached tag identifying it as the key to the building's fire escape. James pocketed it and made to leave, his foot sending something skittering across the floor as he did so.

James shone his torch down at the object, surprise spreading across his face when it caught the light.

It was another magazine.

James picked it up and inserted it into his gun. Re-armed and feeling much safer when a tentive examination revealed no sign of the monster he had just fought he set about searching the building for a fire door.

After several heart pounding minutes wandering the suddenly much darker and narrower seeming halls, trying not to recall any of what he had just experienced, he found it on the second floor.

He paused as he inserted the key, glancing around slowly once more, waiting for something to lunge from the shadows, but nothing did.

Even the key turned without protest, as if he had been granted a small reprieve after what he had just been shown.

_Right_, he thought, his mind beginning to settle somewhat, _Maybe now I can get out of here_.

He swung open the door and found himself staring at an open window.

"What the..". James looked down noticing a small gap between the lip of the door and the window.

_The fire escape must have been knocked down when they built the other apartment block_, he thought.

The gap was only small; getting a firm grip on the doorframe James was able to lift himself up and through the window. Hopping down carefully, he landed with a crunch on broken glass.

He half expected things to come rushing at the sound of his intrusion, but nothing accosted him further.

He did however become aware that he was not alone in this place any longer.

A new noise, alien amongst the silence that pervaded the town, caught his attention. It was a distinctly familiar sound, one he had heard recently, but what was it?

_Wrenching, there's someone here throwing up_. James looked around the small blue bedroom he found himself in and, with the aid of his torch, found the door.

The source of the noise became apparent as soon as he opened the door, directly outside it was an open door leading to a small bathroom, and in that bathroom sat a man.

Significantly over weight, a mop of greasy blond hair protruding from beneath a backward blue cap, his faded blue eyes darted around the room trying to see past the temporary blindness caused by James' torch.

The other man regarded James cagily, his hands pulling vainly at his blue striped, short sleeve, Rugby shirt in an attempt to disguise the vomit stains, or perhaps hoping that by some miracle it had grown large enough to cover his girth.

"Erm, hi there", James said uncertainly, eventually falling back on social convention to fill in the blanks his mind suddenly couldn't provide, "I'm James…are you ok?".

"Eddie", he replied, whipping his mouth and hitching up his brown shorts, "Yeah I'm ok I guess, but I didn't kill no one…he was like that when I got here honest…I didn't-".

Another wave of vomiting cut off whatever he had been about to say.

_Kill anyone? _James thought confused, nevertheless edging a little further away from Eddie and gripping his handgun more securely, _What's he talking about_.

Then he noticed the arm sticking out from behind the bath's shower curtain, an arm coloured an unnatural grey and covered in blood.

"…What happened here?", he asked, a sinking, suspicious, feeling settling in the pit of his stomach, "Your not friends with that pyramid thing are you?".

"Pyramid thing?", Eddie asked, looking up, his face scrunching with confusion, "I don't know what your talkin' about…I didn't do nothin' I swear".

James ran a hand through his hair and scratched his head, taking in the rest of the apartment, including it's missing front door as he did so.

_What's going on with this guy?_ he thought, shining his torch around the room again.

As he was about to return to trying to get something more out of this new survivor than incoherent protests of innocence, he spotted a flash of beige in the edge of the torchlight.

Angela wondered past the apartment's open door, swaying strangely as if in a daze.

"Hey Angela wait!", he shouted but she didn't stop, instead she sped up. "Hold on here a sec Eddie, I'll be right back".

Eddie muttered something noncommittal, another protest following James as he left.

Charging out the door, he skidded to a halt just in time to see her vanish down the apartment's stairwell. James ran as fast as his legs would carry him, taking the stairs two at a time when he noticed the way up was blocked and soon found himself reversing direction and ending up on the first floor.

Angela's footsteps rang down the corridor as she ran down the hallway to his right and was soon swallowed by shadows.

James took a deep breath and charged after her. As he closed he became aware that she was saying something but he wasn't close enough to make it out. Putting his head down James ran harder, somehow narrowing the gap between himself and the younger, fitter woman down to almost nothing.

Reaching out a hand he tried to grab her shoulder to stop her, his fingers brushing her hair. Letting out a small yelp, Angela bowed her head and increased her speed, soon vanishing completely into the darkness.

Up ahead there was the sound of a door slamming and her footsteps disappeared.

She'd gone into one of the apartments.

James slowed to a walked, struggling not to hyperventilate and began playing his light around, looking for a door. Only one was unbarred, the one right at the end of the corridor. James lent against the wall for a few minutes, retrieving his breath.

Walking down to the end of the corridor he got a grip on the handle and pushed. The door wouldn't budge. James jiggled the handle, hitting the door with his hip in an attempt to open it but nothing happened.

Anger bubbling up inside him, he lashed out at the door with his foot. The resulting explosion of pain sent him hopping around the corridor, clutching his throbbing toe.

_Another brilliant plan James_, he silently berated himself, adding a broken toe to the catalogue of injuries he had sustained since coming to this town.

With a low creak the door swung ponderously open the sound of sobbing coming from within. James stopped rubbing his foot and stepped cautiously inside. Those sobs sounded all to familiar and considering what he had just seen it was obvious whom they were coming from.

Pushing back the door to a small, well lit bedroom he found Angela. Curled up in front of a large mirror that covered the entire of one wall, much like those used in professional dance studios.

She was weeping softly to herself and in her hand was clutched a very large, bloodstained, butcher knife.

"Angela", he called gently. He saw her tense, her eyes searching the mirror for whoever was talking to her. When she saw him she didn't relax, her gaze just returned to the knife she was holding.

"Oh…it's you", she said, her eyes never leaving the blade, tilting it so that it's smaller surface included both of their reflections.

"Look Angela" he said reassuringly, "I don't know what your planning, but there's always a better way".

"No, not for me, but then again you know that. You're just like me James, you run. There's nothing else for us…it's what we deserve", she sounded so very tired, and not from all the running she had just done. This was something deeper and it left James feeling strangely on edge.

"No, I'm not like you". Angela didn't respond. "So, did you find your mother".

"No", she answered reluctantly, "I looked everywhere, but she's not anywhere".

"But she's in this town right?"

"How do you know that?", she asked suspiciously, rolling over and propping herself up on one elbow.

"You said she was here when we talked before, remember". Angela held his gaze a few moments longer before looking away and pushing herself up to a sitting position.

"I'm sorry", she said crossing her legs and starring at her lap like a scolded little girl, "Did you find the person you were looking for?".

"My wife, Mary", James said crouching down to try and look her in the eyes. "Have you seen her?".

He pulled a picture out of his inner jacket pocket and handed it to Angela. The picture was one of Mary before she died of the damned disease, she was wearing her favourite clothes, her auburn hair tied back loosely in a bun.

Framed by the simple beauty of Toluca lake she was even more lovely than he remembered.

Angela took the photo, studying it with unusual intensity, glancing from him to the picture before handing it back, "I haven't seen her, I'm sorry".

"That's ok", he assured her, hoping his voice didn't betray his disappointment to the unstable brunette.

"I should go", she said abruptly, standing and heading for the door.

"Angela wait", he called after her, causing her to pause reluctantly, "Where are you going, it's dangerous out there, shouldn't I go with you?".

"No, that's ok", she said turning back to face him, "I'd just slow you down, I can get out through the second floor fire exit".

James noticed that the knife she held was now pointed vaguely in his direction.

"And that?", he asked carefully, making sure not to move.

Angela looked at the knife as if seeing it for the first, "I don't know…would you hold it for me?".

"Sure", he said moving closer to take it from her, "Just hand it over".

"No!", she screamed suddenly, thrusting the knife at him as if warding off a dangerous monster. Panting erratically, she look at the knife then at his shocked expression and then back again as if scared herself by what she was doing.

"I'm, I'm sorry", she stammered dropping the knife, "I've been bad, please don't, forgive me!".

Turning she fled from the apartment and was gone.

James stood, staring at the knife she had dropped, the light reflecting off it like a malevolent glare. He considered picking it up but somehow, just the thought of carrying it made him shudder from head to toe.

Stepping cautiously over it he made his way back into the hallway. Angela was gone, not even a distant footfall was left as testimony to her presence. What had she said; the second floor fire escape was the way out… then that's were he was heading.

James reached the second floor entrance after checking in on Eddie. He had disappeared to. Was he the only one who saw how dangerous this place was? Everyone he'd met so far gave no sign they'd seen anything. At least anything dangerous, Eddie had certainly seen that corpse…

Perhaps he had gone mad, perhaps there was nothing to see. That might explain a lot, especially… that…

Getting a good grip on the fire escape he shoved it roughly open and stepped through…and found himself staring at the pyramid creature he had seen before engaged in another unspeakable act of debauchery.

This time it held one of the monsters he had seen when first coming into this town doubled over in with it's face pressed grossly against it's crotch.

Blood was everywhere

Looking up it saw him and thrust the poor creature aside, slamming it against the nearest wall casually with bone shattering force.

For a moment it held James' gaze as if waiting for something from him once again.

Whatever it wanted it apparently didn't find.

Reaching down, James at first thought it was ripping up part of the floor, but was rapidly corrected.

As if picking up an everyday work tool, it drew what could only be described as the largest Knife James believed any person had ever seen. Its blackened length covered in rust and dry blood that did nothing to hide the razor sharpness of its edge, or shear impossible weight of the weapon the Pyramid Head dragged along by it's handle with a deafening scrap, and started forward.

James spun to run but the door slammed shut and there was a click announcing it was now locked.

James pressed himself into as his mind frantically played through a number of options. The room was only about three or four meters square, with a steel staircase leading impossibly down into a pool of murky water that had somehow swamped the lower floor.

_No escape_, he thought grimly, glaring defiantly at the advancing monstrosity, and probably looking a threatening as a newborn kitten for it.

The creature heaved its weapon over one shoulder, preparing to strike. At that moment James saw his chance. As it began the swing it probably thought would end his life, James threw himself down and past it, landing awkwardly in a combat roll and coming up bare centimetres from the wall.

A loud crash and grinding noise before he'd even completed his roll told him just how close he'd come to dying.

Turning back to face it he found it had already pivoted to regard him, its stance warier, wider to prevent him trying the same trick again, there was no way out this time. Slowly it began to hoist its weapon back up to strike…

_It's serious, whatever the reason it let me go before, it's going to kill me_

With this thought echoing through his mind, James didn't realise he'd pulled his gun until it had been levelled at the Pyramid Head's oversized helmet.

"No… I can't die here", the monster regarded him for a moment before starting forward, it's weapon drawing his end closer with every screech of steel on concrete.

"I can't!", James yelled, his legs threatening to buckle as it got closer still, the handgun he held suddenly seeming very small and useless.

His wife's image, as she had looked on her deathbed swam before his vision.

"I have to see Mary!"

He pulled the trigger.

Suddenly the air exploded with a piercing shriek. James clapped his hands over his ears to block out the terrible wailing that tried to carve his skull in two, noting vaguely that the pyramid head had done the same.

It writhed as if in agony, staggering around, coming closer to the stairwell each time. With one final roar of pain it plunged itself into the water's murky depths and was gone.

James felt his teeth jarred and his vision blur as his knees abruptly meet concrete, his legs had finally given way.

"Make… god, make it stop!", he screamed, his eardrums feeling as if they would rupture at any moment.

Gradually the sirens faded and James was able to uncover his ears.

He crawled sluggishly over to the stairs and gasped in shock.

The water was gone; the stairs weren't even wet.

_How… is this possible?_ James thought, eventually finding the strength to stand once more and stepping lightly down the stairs, each footfall echoing hollowly on the cold steel.

James placed his hands on the rusted metal bar that opened the first floor exit, using it to brace himself as his inner ear tried to tell him that several different directions were up at once for a moment, and shoved it open, stepping out once more into the biting air and blinding fog.

James took a deep breath, relieved by the sting of the cold air on his cheeks and the steam of his breath. Real, physical sensations, feelings everyone experienced.

James looked around as he felt his head finally beginning to clear. He was in a small side street, wall to wall buildings to his right, vanishing around a tight corner, and a gaping hole to his left, ending just before the concrete access ramp on which he now stood.

It was a brutal reminder that nowhere was safe in this place.

Settling in a light jog despite the loud complaints of sore and over used muscles, James made his way down the street and round the corner.

_If nothing else_, he thought with a tight grin, _this trip has given me a lot of exercise_.

A faint humming drew him to a halt, it seemed to be coming from somewhere above him. Looking up he found the little girl he had seen in the Woodside apartment building sitting on a wall just out of his reach, humming a tune to herself while reading some sort of letter closely.

Glancing down she noticed him standing there and quickly tucked the letter away in the big pocket sown into the front of her dress.

"Oh", she said with a level of contempt abnormal for one so young, "It's you".

"Yeah, you're the one who kicked me back there aren't you?", he said trying to figure out how he could get up there as well.

"So what if I did?", she answered snottily.

James stared indignantly up at her, shaking his head in frustration, "Right, cute. Are you coming down or what? Its dangerous around here you know".

"What are you talking about, are you blind or somethin'. There's no one here. I wouldn't go with you anyway, you never loved Mary", she said pivoting and hoping down behind the wall out of view before he could say a word.

"Wait!" he said rushing forward, trying vainly to find a handhold to get up the wall, "How do you know Mary! Answer me!".

Nothing but silence answered, she was gone.

_There has to be another way round_, he thought desperately, running down the street searching for a way into the area behind that wall.

Gradually the road gave way to a mosaic pattern of interlocking red tiles, the enclosing grey giving way to the more open, luscious green expanses of "The Outdoors", and there in front of him, engraved in granite were the words; 'Rosewater Park'.

_I'm here_, he thought, a smile growing across his face as the full input of what that meant slammed home, _I'm here!_.

* * *

---Author's Notes---

That's Chapter Two revised, chapter three will be done tomorrow, chapter four Wednesday, and five possibly Thursday or maybe on the weekend, and then I'll be back up to where I should be with the writing proper.

Chapter 3: The Cure for What Ails; "You could be her twin" "What's the matter, do I look like your girlfriend or something?", James meets up with the mysterious Maria, but who is this woman that looks so much like his dead wife, perhaps the answers lie in a place James never wanted to visit again. The most dangerous wounds come from within, not from without.

Till next time, Betweenheavenandhell


	3. Chapter 3: The Cure for What Ails

**A/N:** Hey folks, just a brief reminder that this fic is review derivative, in other words, you don't review, I don't write, so help a fella out huh?

Chapter 3: The Cure for What Ails

All thoughts of cryptic little girls and lurking danger forgotten, he bolted down the steps ahead of him, clearing whole flights, moving from landing to landing.

Quickly he reached the observation area, the small path that led past the lake, dotted with small enclaves and benches it had always been the ideal spot for couples. He and Mary had found it no exception.

James searched desperately, trying to mentally peel back the fog.

There standing right in front of him was the silhouette of a woman, a woman who he hoped was, in more than his mind's fancy, the perfect match for Mary's height and build.

"Mary!", he said, dashing forward hopefully, his pace slowing as he drew closer, some of his exuberance lost. There was something out of place here…

Slowly she turned around and lounged casually against the steel guardrail. Her face was a heartbreaking mirror image of his late wife, but everything else…

"No, your not", he sighed dejectedly.

"What's the matter?", she asked in a playful tone, cocking her head to one side and pulling her shoulders back a little more, "Do I look like your girlfriend or something?".

"No,", he answered quickly, eyes instinctively going to the areas her movements highlighted before he pulled them back to her face… Mary's face, "My late wife".

Pushing, lazily off from the rail, she pace coyly around him, checking her perfectly manicured nails and adjusting her revealing red cardigan and pink leather, leopard skin mini-skirt as if on parade.

"It's uncanny", he said disbelievingly, watching her as she walked, "You could be her twin, only you hair and clothes are different".

That was an understatement, Mary wouldn't have been seen dead looking the way this woman did.

"Sorry to disappoint you", she said, taking up her place against the rail again, "I'm Maria by the way".

"James", he replied simply.

Sorrow welled up inside him, he had been so sure that he had finally found Mary after fleeing through this unreal nightmare landscape… His eyes narrowed suspiciously as he scrutinised Maria's appearance a second time. What were the odds of finding someone who was a carbon copy of his dead wife waiting exactly in the right place to run into him.

"What's the matter? Don't you think I'm real?", she asked as if reading his mind. Taking his hand she rubbed it gently against her cheek, "See? Feel how warm I am".

James jerked back as if stung, stepping around her quickly and backing away.

"Why did you come here?", she asked inquisitively, a smile lighting her face as she watched James' growing discomfort.

_Just like a cat toying with a mouse_, James thought with a trace of anger.

"I'm looking for my wife", he replied coming to a halt.

"Your wife?", she asked puzzled, playing her finger playfully across her bottom lip, "I thought you said she was dead?".

"She is… I think, but…maybe not" he said trying to think how to explain this to a stranger, "I got a letter from her a couple of days ago, it said she was waiting for us, in 'Our special place'".

"And that's here?", Maria asked looking round at the drab and lifeless environment sceptically.

"This whole town was our special place", he explained patiently, "But the park was the only place that really stands out in my mind… That and the hotel, that place will always stand out in my memory".

"I bet it does", she said teasingly, an edge of mischief entering her smile.

"Do you no if its still there?", he asked trying to ignore her last comment but feeling himself blush.

"The hotel? Yeah it's still there. Nathan Avenue is the only way there, I wonder if that video tape's still there…", she added quietly, gazing out over the lake for a moment, taking her eyes off him for the first time since he had arrived.

"Thanks", he said gruffly, turning to leave. Surprisingly, he felt no of the worry or guilt he had when he had been separated from Angela, or even Eddie, brief as their encounter had been, only a desire to be away from this strange woman.

"Hey", she said, realising that he was about to leave, " Hold up, I'll come with you".

"What?", he asked, debating over it for a moment, wondering if there was someway he could be without her disturbing presence, but finding no acceptable reason to refuse, especially in a place as dangerous as this, " Yeah, sure… I guess".

Maria's smile vanished, replaced by a look of pure anger, "What do you mean 'I guess'! You were just going to leave me here with everything that's wandering round in this town!".

"N-No", he stammered taken aback by the force of her outburst, "I, um, just… Sure, come on lets go".

* * *

And just like that James suddenly found himself no longer alone on his journey.

The next few minutes past in silence as they made their way up Nathan Avenue. James cast occasional looks at Maria, but all of her earlier anger seemed to have abated, in fact she was almost skipping along with carefree energy.

James hadn't seen such a drastic turnabout in emotion since those last few days with Mary…

"Hey James look", she said breaking into his reviver, "Over there".

James followed her line of sight and saw a little girl disappear into the entrance to a bowling hall up ahead.

"Laura", he almost hissed, his face darkening slightly as he started sprinting to catch up.

"You know her", Maria wheezed from next to him.

"In a matter of speaking", he replied, coming to a halt outside the doors.

"You go in", Maria said leaning against the wall next to the door, "I hate bowling".

"What are you talking about?", he asked, wondering what on earth had prompted such a strange comment, "It's not like I'm planning to play a frame or anything".

"Whatever, I'll be out here when you're done".

Grunting in vexation, James went inside.

Like everything in Silent Hill the interior was in an advanced state of decay, rusted trophies and shattered glass lay in random arrangements across the floor. Used to this by now, James barely registered each crunch under foot as he carried his search into the next room.

"So, did you find the lady you were looking for? What did you say her name was, Mary?", came a voice from the next room, the bowling hall proper he guessed.

_Eddie?_

James pushed open the door to reveal a modestly sized bowling area consisting of five lanes and what used to be a small bar area by the looks of it.

Sitting at one of the score tables, a pizza on his lap and Laura balanced on the side of the table, was Eddie.

"So what you do", she was saying, "Robbery, assault, murder".

"No, nothing like that", he said not looking up at her, "I just ran cause I was scared, that's all… I'm always doing that".

"Ha", she barked, leaning closer, "Your just a big gutless fatso aren't you".

"Now why'd you have to say a thing like that?", he asked indignantly.

It seemed James was the only one this bratty little girl had an attitude problem with.

"Laura", James said gently.

Looking up sharply Laura's eyes lighted on him and she let out a startled squeak before hopping off the table and running to the other end of the room, disappearing out of another set of double doors.

"Damn it Eddie", he said jogging over to where the rotund man sat, keeping his eyes on the door Laura had run out of, "Why'd you let her run off like that?".

"What the… oh James, its you. Run off? Oh you mean Laura, she can take care of herself, said a big slob like me would just slow her down".

"And that's a reason to leave a little girl running around alone in a place like this!", James demanded.

Eddie shifted uncomfortably in his seat, "Hey get of my case ok".

"Get of your case", James mimicked, "There's something seriously wrong with this place and your sitting here stuffing your face!".

"Hey I don't need this from you, you got me, get the hell out of here!"

"Forget you", James spat with disgust, walking back out of the bowling alley and outside. He was instantly aware that something was wrong, Maria was nowhere to be seen.

"Maria!", he shouted, concern entering his voice despite his earlier misgivings about Mary's doppelganger.

"Over here", Maria panted from his right, emerging from around the back of the bowling alley, "A little girl ran past… I tried to stop her… but she was to fast for me, come on, this way".

James followed her as she sprinted through the bowling alley's car park through a mesh wire gate and down a narrow alleyway.

"She went down there", she said when they reach the seeming dead end of the alley. Frowning, James searched the alley wall until he found a narrow gap between it and the building to his left, a gap just large enough for say a child to fit through.

"Is there any other way through there?", he asked Maria.

"Yeah", she replied pointing almost lazily at a bolted door leading into the building to his left, "Right through there".

"Yeah but it's locked", he pointed out, "I don't suppose you've got the key do you?".

"As a matter of fact", she drawled with another one of those smiles.

Reaching into the top of her boot, Maria extracted a small bronze key.

With a mild clang the heavy lock dropped to the floor, but that still left the main lock. Reaching a hand toward her cleavage she gave him a mock shy smile and turned away. Unable to resist James found himself levered up on tiptoe to watch her pull out a small key.

Opening the door she gestured for him to go through. The area behind the door was stacked full of crates of old wine, those that had been left open reeking of vinegar, the only space that was clear was that directly at the bottom of the small stairwell to his right.

"Up here", Maria said, closing the door and making her way up stairs. James followed her up the stairs, dodging abandoned crates and boxes, until they reached the second floor. The narrow, dank corridor had several doors only one of which was open, the light from beyond it bathing the corridor in a neon pink-red light.

"In there", he guessed, walking ahead of Maria through the door… and into strip joint.

"Look familiar?", Maria inquired teasingly from behind him.

"No", he answered too quickly, though unsure why. He would have remembered ever coming to a place like this in Silent Hill.

Maria didn't say anything, just gave him a knowing look and walked past him, hoping onto the stage and giving a little twirl around the pole before hoping down and walking behind the bar.

James coughed and shifted uncomfortably for what seemed the hundredth time since meeting her.

Maria laughed at his embarrassment, setting out two glasses and pouring out two shots of whiskey.

"Drink?" she asked, as if that were the only reason they were there.

"No thanks", he replied, it wasn't that he didn't drink, far from it, it was just he had learned a long time ago that it didn't help, besides there were more immediate concerns, "I think we should get going if we want to catch up with Laura".

"Fine" she sighed, tossing back the drink in a single swallow and opening the club's main entrance. Without waiting to see if he was following Maria strode out into the mist and down a long set of steel stairs. Massaging his temple with the balls of his fingers James followed out onto the street.

"Where to now?", he asked tentively.

"She went down there", Maria said, pointing to her right. When James didn't move straight away she crossed her arms impatiently, rolled her eyes and started walking.

James hung his head.

Being married all these years he had forgotten how difficult some women could be to get along with, especially when you didn't have a marriage to them to temper their impatience.

He caught up to her a few moments later and they walked once more in silence, a silence amplified by the town that made them seem miles rather than centimetres apart. He was just working up the nerve to strike up a conversation when he saw Laura up ahead. She was standing outside a darkly oppressive construct of stone and steel, a building that radiated menace in a way that made James feel as if he were starring at the lair of some terrible and ancient beast.

It was with some shock that he noticed the sign nailed hastily to the huge, reinforced concrete barricade that seemed to be passing for a wall. The sign simply read, 'Brookhaven Hospital'.

Of all the possible uses for this building he had considered, hospital was certainly not one of them, but of course hospitals were far from his favourite places ever since…

Laura turned, her eyes sliding across Maria and widening as they rested on James. Spinning back she darted forward and into the silent hospital. James and Maria bolted forward as one, reaching the rusted double doors that would allow them into the building at the same moment.

The door Maria pressed against swung open with barely a squeal, James' on the other hand did not. An unknown period of enduring rain and snow without maintenance had rusted it shut and it made James aware of this fact with bone jarring certainty.

James rebounded violently, his upper back and head striking the concrete with blinding force. The world spun violently and his vision threatened to fail him as everything he saw became distorted for a few seconds, somehow darker, before he could bring it back into focus.

James rose slowly, letting out a small whimper as he probed his damage skull for sign of serious injury.

"Hey Maria", he said, choosing the correct door this time, "Does my head…look ..bad to…".

He trailed off as he took in the corridor in which he stood.

Mould and what might once have been paint covered most of the walls except where it had run to pool on the floor in grimy, stinking, rancid puddles.

"Maria", he called tentively but no one answered.

Taking a few careful paces and turning on his torch, he ventured further into the darkened halls. A few minutes was all it took to confirm the first floor was devoid of life, door after door was locked of in someway barricaded as if someone had been desperate to keep whatever lurked behind these age blacked doors were it was.

Of Maria or Laura he saw no sign.

This confused him greatly, he hadn't passed out and he was certain Maria wouldn't have run off without him, she was quite adamant on the subject of being alone.

That didn't help his current situation however, the fact was that whatever he may have thought she was gone, and Laura with her. It was engrossed in such thoughts James found himself before a small steel door, secreted away in a side corridor beneath a small neon light that fitfully flashed the word 'Exit'.

Pushing down the handle, fully expecting the latch to catch or for the door to refuse to budge he was surprised when it swung open without a whisper. Stepping cautiously into the darkened stairwell beyond, he strobed the torch up and down the stairway.

A large iron grating covered the stairs leading down into an area simply labelled **B1** and after following the stairway upward in a familiar pattern; James soon found that only the door that would open was that leading to the roof.

He stepped out into the biting air and gasped in surprise.

The sky was black, not the usual comforting pin-pricked veil that he was used to, but a solid, oppressive darkness that swallowed any light that strayed too far away from the light that clung grimly above the roof exit. James looked around but found nothing except a small diary lying discarded on the floor. Lifting it carefully it felt terribly frail beneath his fingers. Gently opening the first page he began to read:

_May 9_

_Rain._

_Stared out the window all day._

_Peaceful here - nothing to do._

_Still not allowed to go outside._

_May 10_

_Still raining._

_Talked with the doctor a little._

_Would they have saved me if_

_I didn't have a family to feed?_

_I know I'm pathetic, weak._

_Not everyone can be strong._

_May 11_

_Rain again._

_The meds made me feel sick_

_today._

_If I'm only better when I'm_

_drugged, then who am I anyway?_

_May 12_

_Rain as usual._

_I don't want to cause any more_

_trouble for anyone, but I'm a_

_bother either way._

_Can it really be a such a sin to_

_run instead of fight?_

_Some people may say so, but they_

_don't have to live in my shoes._

_It may be selfish, but it's what_

_I want._

_It's too hard like this._

_It's just too hard..._

_May 13_

_It's clear outside._

_The doctors told me I've been_

_released - that I've got to go_

_home._

_I --------------_

The last few pages had been torn out, or perhaps they had rotted away, it was hard to tell. There was something strange about the entries, it was almost as if as he read them he could here the author weeping softly as he writ. His sorrow echoing around the cramped confines of a poorly lit room with no exit…

It was almost as if a faint echo of this mans sadness remained behind here where he had come for refuge from himself.

At first James was unsure if he really heard the sound, a dim screeching like the wail of distance siren. It is said that because we are so rarely exposed to total silence, the human mind will seek to fill such moments with simulated noise to comfort us. It was to this end that James assumed that what he heard was of no consequence, but soon the volume of the noise began to rise, quickly becoming painful.

Turning to flee, James found himself face to face with the creature from the apartment building. In its hand was a weapon that vaguely resembled a large, blood stained knife of impossible proportions, it was easily half James' own size and weighed enough to cause the monster to slouch to its left as it dragged the weapon to bare on James.

With a demonic, metallic howl it swung the gargantuan blade toward him. Scrambling backward, James felt the subtle displacement of air as it passed bare centimetres from his neck.

James angled toward the door but the creature cut him off with startling speed, forcing him back against the steel mesh fence that surrounded the roof. He searched desperately for a way around the monster but found that it had boxed him in between the fire escape and some sort of locked power utility room.

As it loomed closer James thought of Mary, lost and alone somewhere in this town… and of Maria. As if angered by something the pyramid headed creature took one last vicious swipe at him. Although it was futile, James cringed back instinctively, colliding with the fence as he did so. Year of abuse had weakened the fence to the degree that it gave as he hit it, sending him plummeting away from his certain death and into the blackened, uncertain depths bellow. James felt strangely serene as he fell, no matter what happened next he was finally free, free of his responsibilities, of his sadness, of his gu-

Pain exploded in his spine as he hit the third floor roof, rotten timbre and plaster giving way beneath him, slowing him enough that he lacked the momentum to continue his descent when the floor of the third level chose to intervene.

James bounced as he hit and he felt something in his chest crack.

He let out an involuntary cry, rolling onto his side as he did so and intensifying his pain. Fire spider-webbed across ribs, curling him into a foetal position. James lay there for what might have been minutes, or days, with only his mind numbing pain for company, he couldn't tell.

Eventually the pain subsided to an agonised throbbing and he was able to prop himself up against a nearby wall.

James hugged himself as he lent against the comfortingly soft wall… too soft in fact.

James peered into the dim room in which he found himself. Its four walls were huddled claustrophobically together and covered in a thick discoloured white padding. Pushing himself upright with great difficulty, he felt his way around the cramped walls, searching desperately for an exit but only encountering seamless padding.

"Trapped", he panted, suddenly finding it hard to draw breath, "No way out. Hey! Someone let me out! HELP!".

James sank to the floor, his legs suddenly unable to support him, "Please," he whimpered, "Somebody… help me".

No one came, he was alone and trapped in this place, and would never be saved.

"Now", he thought he heard a feminine voice whisper through the darkness, "Perhaps you'll understand…"

Maria's eyes opened slowly, reluctantly, as if merely keeping them shut was all the protection she needed. She forced them open but had to blink a few times to reassure herself she had succeeded.

Darkness surrounded her, complete shadow, unbroken by light or sound. It made her feel like a child again, lost and alone in a vastness she could not comprehend. The illusion was shattered when her probing hands found a wall, its cracked, mildew coated solidarity lending her strength.

Maria tried to remember how she had come to be here… she remembered seeing the girl, Laura, run into the hospital, she had given chase, she and James both had, she had run through the doors but James hadn't followed, she remembered a loud bang as James' door had refused to open and then watching with unreasoning terror as the door she had entered through had slammed shut, cutting him off from her.

She remembered the next frantic moments as a blur, screaming for James' help, for him to rescue her from the dark, from the isolation, remembered how she had cursed him for his inability to save her and then… falling. Now she was alone again, alone, trapped and useless just like before…

_Before when?_, she thought, fire wracking her skull as she tried to remember.

Why couldn't she remember? Even that thought seared her mind with tongues of crimson agony.

Maria drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. Alone. Always alone. Maria wept softly, hoping someone would hear her. If they did, no one came.

"Do you wish to be free?". The voice came as such a shock in this forsaken town that James feared he had invented it to keep himself sane, in which case he was surely mad.

"I said do you wish to be free?", the voice demanded again, this time with an impatient edge.

This was not the voice he had thought he had heard a few minutes ago, no, this was rough, deep, masculine.

"Who are you?", he asked tentively, if this was not his imagination he needed to know.

"I… am a guide, by profession", the voice replied with a twist of grim humour that unsettled James' already fleeting nerves, "One who could show those who came here the full unseen splendour of our little town, or rather that was my boast".

A half mad, sputtering laugh echoed from outside James' cell, "How little I really knew… but that is the past and this is now, and I offer my services to those who wish them in this abode of the damned. On the scant chance I may save another as I failed to save myself".

"What do you mean failed to save yourself?", James asked cautiously.

"Worry not my lad", the voice replied and James could almost see the gesture of dismissal, "As I say that is the past, and there will be plenty of time for that. Now I repeat, and this will be my last offer. Do you wish to be free?".

James considered the offer. Yes he certainly wanted out of this place, but he couldn't bring himself to trust a man, at least from what James could discern from his voice, who was quite clearly mad, and professed to having already failed to protect himself… whatever that was supposed to mean…

"How do I know-", he began.

"No, no, no!", the voice cried, "No time, choose quickly, I am not the only denizen of this place, as you may know, and they are likely to offer a much different form of release. Choose".

James knew what he was referring to, the strange and distorted monsters that plagued this town, he had no intention of letting them find him like this.

"Ok" he said, "Get me out of here".

"You're sure?" he voice replied, "Once you start down this path there will be only two ways to reach its end".

James hesitated for a second before confirming his decision, "Very well, you have chosen… follow the crimson path".

With a disturbingly loud squeal, the wall in front of him swung open on concealed hinges. James fumbled with his torch for a few minutes before he was able to turn it on, harsh bars of light illuminating the darkness.

James rose and carefully edged out of the cell, shining the light back and forth as he went. There was no sign of the owner of the voice that he had heard in his cell, but the meaning of his clue was instantly apparent.

A large and disturbingly fresh trail of blood, half a meter wide curved away from his cell and under a door on the opposite wall. On top of this gruesome trail was a leaf of green paper, like those used for prescriptions. James lifted it, making sure to use the corner that was not in contact with the red fluid and held it up so he could read it:

Patient Name: Joseph

Case History: Serve Schizophrenia, Depression, Multiple attempts at suicide

Doctors Notes: Joseph is a highly intelligent, attentive and usually helpful young man

who unfortunately has become bound to bouts of depression or rage as

his condition decays. Probable cause has been traced to a recent

attempt to unlock the repressed memories believed to be the cause of

his condition. Because of this we have been forced to isolate him until

such a time as he feels ready to continue his _journey_. I still believe we

did the right thing. It is better to live free than in the prison of ones

own mind…

James flipped the sheet over, discovering more writing, just legible beneath the blood.

_The potential for this illness exists in everyone, under the right circumstances anyone might be driven like him to the 'Otherside'. No, that phrase can't possibly convey exactly what I mean. After all, there is no wall between here and there in this place. It exists on the border of worlds real and unreal, on a nexus of horrors. It is a place both far and near. _

_Some say it's not even an illness, I can't believe that, I'm a doctor not a philosopher or even a psychiatrist, I have to believe I can understand this, that I can get out of here before I go mad._

_But sometimes I have to ask myself this question. It's true that his imaginings are nothing but the inventions of a busy mind, but to him there simply is no other reality, furthermore he is happy there._

_So why, I ask myself, in the name of healing him to we seek to drag him back into our own reality, and what might we bring back with us…_

James crouched there for a long time as he considered the words before him.

_Otherside?_, he thought, _Is that what's happening here, is this town being invaded?_.

His eyes were instantly drawn back to the slick red trail passing beneath the door he presumed led out of here. A shudder ran through him, aggravating his already tender ribs. If this was an invasion then he needed to find Maria and escape.

_And what about Mary_, a small voice whispered at the back of his head.

Guilt flooded through James, he had not even considered trying to find his wife, or Laura for that matter.

Standing awkwardly, he hobbled over to the door and eased it open, drawing his gun as he did so. The corridor outside was in as bad a state as the rest of the building, although here and there a sputtering neon light continued to fight the insidious decay.

From somewhere ahead he heard sobs, echoing forlornly along the unforgiving concrete walls. James moved toward them silently, his time in this place had taught him the value of caution.

He approached the T-junction ahead and he carefully poked his head around the corner.

There, haloed under the pathetic, stuttering light was a young woman in a nurse's uniform. She was hunched over on the floor, her back to James and her shoulders rising and falling in time to her irregular sobs. Her uniform was tattered and bloody and the small bob of brown hair he could see was greasy and matted.

"Are you ok Miss", he asked lowering the gun and stepping closer when she didn't answer, "Excuse me, are you ok?".

Slowly her sobs trailed off and she stood upright awkwardly allowing James to see the long, thin metal pole hanging in her hand. The light above her finally gave up, illuminating her solely by James' torch.

James found himself raising the gun and aiming at her without thinking. She turned to face him, causing James tense with fear. Her face was a distorted mess, her cheek and part of her upper lip were missing giving her an ugly, permanent grin. The eyes had swollen shut, crusted over with dry blood and her skin was an unnatural grey. Walking gawkily as if her ankles had been broken and improperly reset, she shuffled toward him, pipe raised above her head as if to strike.

Without thinking James pulled the trigger, dimly aware that the gun wasn't loaded. The resulting recoil shocked him as a bullet tore free of the barrel and plunged straight through the distorted creature's forehead, dropping her with a sickening splatter.

He hugged the wall as he walked past the mass of rotting flesh that used to be a woman, trying to shut out the sight and smell of the corpse and focus on the gory trail ahead.

Another minute in Silent Hill, another horror.

James followed the corridor to its abrupt end and through the double doors on the left. Another faceless corridor greeted him and another of the hospital's former employees. He found himself drawing and firing once more before he was completely aware of what he was doing, dropping the creature before it had time to lunge.

James strode down the corridor firing indiscriminately at everything that opposed him, feeling oddly disconnected from the events taking place in front of him. He continued his dreamlike rampage, wondering idly if the constant level of horror had finally desensitised him to the point that he could just end the lives of these pitiful creatures without a flicker of conscience and also, where were the bullets for such a murderous spree coming from?

This thought brought with it enough confusion and uncertainty to clear the mental haze surrounding him and bring him back to himself.

James gasped in horror as the full scope of what he had just done assailed his every sense. Bodies littered the floor, numerous puncher holes adorning heads and torsos, some still writhing in agony as the last of their life-blood drained away.

The blood… the blood was everywhere; every surface was coated in a thick layer of rank smelling fluid.

_My god_, James thought, hand clasped over his mouth as he tried to back away from the carnage he had wrought, _What have I done_.

He had read about people who went to war experiencing a kind of cabin fever that led to them killing friend and foe alike without ever recognising their actions until told of them later.

Had he finally broken under the strain?

A loud _ping_ sounded behind him, spinning him round, his gun arm rising instinctively to train on the empty elevator that had opened behind him.

James panned his torch around the elevator before stepping inside. The interior was startling clean, pure white walls only partially touched by the mildew and rot that had infested the rest of the building's structure.

A simple bronze plate was the only thing that broke the hypnotic purity, but the writing was too small to read. Stepping closer, James shone the torch on the plate and squinted to make out what on closer inspection turned out to be a crudely scratched message:

_In memory of Jennifer Caroll,_

_She lived in horror and tragedy before finding ----_

_nd -----,_

_She will be missed…_

_What kind of a memorial is that?_, James thought.

The name also tickled at something from his memories, but what?

James felt himself swallowing hard as he recalled; Jennifer Caroll had been the name of a woman in LA who had supposedly murdered her 6 year old son in the middle of a custody battle with her estranged husband, Joesph Caroll, after he had tried to get them to return to their home town of Silent Hill…

A loud metallic clanging announced the closing of the elevator's thick steel doors as a bright light temporarily blinded him. J

ames held up his arm to shield his adjusting eyes and fumbled blindly toward the car's control panel, flicking the torches power switch as he did so.

As his eyes slowly became accustomed to the light he could make out a small, winking amber dot at the base of the panel. The light turned out to be an indicator showing what floor the elevator was bound for.

James could just make out the number one, and a hastily scratched word next to the button saying; _Truth,_ between flashes before the car screeched abruptly to a halt and the lighting cut out, plunging the car back into darkness.

There was a diminutive _ping_ and the door ground open, locking halfway.

Not wasting any more time than was necessary to turn his torch back on, James squeezed between the gap and out into the corridor beyond. James hunched over panting as he furtively scanned the corridor for any sign of attack. Had it really been so long since he'd seen something in this place work as it was supposed to that it could panic him? Well, more or less as it was supposed to anyway.

James calmed himself, firmly stamping down any traces of fear that tried to worm their way into his gut. As soon as his calm was restored he set about exploring this new section of the hospital in which he had found himself. As was all to familiar by now he found a succession of doors that refused to open or turned out to be containing some lurking terror, all except one.

The faint musical tinkling of a child's laugh echoed from behind a set of old hospital beds drawn together to form a crude fort.

"Laura", he asked, carefully peaking over the top of nearest bed.

Laura lay on what remained of the tiled floor happily adsorbed in dancing a tattered toy bear across the floor, accompanied by muttered narration.

"Laura", he said again, perching on the edge of one of the beds and waving a hand in front of her eyes.

"Huh?", she said, following the hand back to its source, standing and planting her tiny hands on her hips when she saw who had addressed her, "Oh, it's you, what do you want?".

James shook his head ruefully, her attitude hadn't improved at all, who did this kid think she was, running around a place like this alone and insulting everyone she met.

"It's dangerous Laura", he said, trying to sound reasonable rather than impatient, "We should get out of here".

Laura rolled her eyes but stood anyway, hoping over the 'wall' of her fort and trotting over to the door.

"Well?", she asked, "What you waiting for?".

Not waiting for a reply she opened the door and stepped outside, James having to scrabble to catch her before she could take off up the hall.

"Right", he said motioning her to follow him back to the elevator, "perhaps we can finally-".

"Oh no!", Laura shouted, frantically digging through her pockets for something, "Where is it!".

"Where's what?", James asked, confused and annoyed. This brat had long since gone past the point of trying his nerves.

"My letter!", she shouted at him, "The one from Mary! I must have dropped it, I gotta go back and find it!".

"That's a lie!", James bellowed, his anger surprising even himself before continuing in a more moderate tone, "I mean you couldn't have... Mary…".

"Fine!", she shouted back, "Don't believe me, but I'm going to find it".

"Laura", he said as she began to sprint off up the corridor, "Hold on!".

James caught up with his longer legs quite quickly to find Laura up on her tip-toes, attempting to peer through the dirt obscured glass of a rusted set of double doors.

"Is it in there?", he asked pushing her aside none to gently and using his hip and shoulder to batter the nearest of the doors open.

_It's not possible, but maybe… just maybe I'm not the only one who got a letter. Just what are you thinking, Mary…_

The inside of the room was dark, but thanks to his torch James could make out that this had once been some sort of examination room. A tattered surgical curtain hung from its broken pole across a rotting examination bed. Dry blood covered the bed and what might have been a hand protruded grimly from beneath the edge of the curtain.

"You sure it's in there?", he asked, a surge of fear tempering his earlier eagerness.

"Yes", Laura replied impatiently, "In the back, by the typewriter".

James shone the light in the direction she indicated, picking out the edge of an aged desk and the remains cluttered atop it, an obviously broken typewriter amongst them. Shuffling forward with rising dread he edged toward the desk.

_**Bang!**_

James spun back to the door, just in time to hear the sound of a lock clicking into place.

"Laura?", he said, walking over to the door and trying the handle. It refused to budge.

"Haha," she laughed, the top of her face just visible through the glass, "Fooled you".

A low rumble echoed from the far end of the room. James twisted toward it involuntarily, his torch giving the vague impression of something human sized moving across the ceiling above the desk.

"Laura!" he said banging on the door, attempting to sound authoritive but only managing strangled fear and desperation, "Open the door!".

"Why should I?", she asked sarcastically, "I'm just a liar right?".

The thing on the ceiling seemed to be attracted to the sound of their argument, pulling it's grotesque, skinless form across the ceiling lattice's and into the arc of light cast by James' torch. The creature hung vertically before him, the absence of skin emphasising its abnormal muscular structure, an unnaturally thick torso and arms dwarfing its spindly legs. Iron bars had been driven through its shoulders to form the support of a cage framework that shrouded the creature's body.

"Open up you snotty little brat!", he shouted, banging the door even louder and fumbling for the gun he had replaced behind his belt.

"Brat?!" she screeched indignantly, "Why you, you…".

James finally found purchase on the gun and yanked it clear, levelling it at the creature and pulling the trigger. James' heart stopped as the gun discharged only a hollow _click_ in place of the destructive projectile he had expected.

"I should just leave you in there forever", Laura's voice came distantly over the rising roar that was his heartbeat. James dropped the empty gun, its clattering impact deafeningly loud in the sudden silence. James pressed himself against the doors, willing himself to melt away through their seam.

Two more of the creatures loomed out of the darkness to flank the first, one either side, each as twisted as the other. No escape. James' legs quivered, dropping him to his knees. No escape.

"James?", came Laura's questioning voice.

No escape. The lead creature began to rock itself back and forth, increasing its arc with every motion.

No escape. The creature swung back, its angle of motion the greatest yet, and brought the lower bar of its cage, with explosive force, into contact with James' chin.

No escape. James' head ricocheted of the doors causing stars to explode before his eyes.

No escape. James was distantly aware of the pain from his wrist as he landed on top of it, but it seemed silly to dwell on such things, so… pointless.

No escape. James was vaguely aware of Laura's panicked voice calling his name over and over again, each repetition with rising distress.

No escape. The lead creature released its grip on the ceiling, slamming to the floor and toppling sideways.

No escape. James felt himself being turned over and rough, damp, skinless hands gripping his ankles as the world began to close in around him, the walls themselves beginning to twist and distort, screaming in pain and terror.

No escape.

Then, only darkness.

No escape.

_

* * *

Guilty_

The voice was nothing new to Angela, it had been with her ever since… Pain, flashes of memory so intense they threatened to rend her mind asunder.

Ever since then, '_Guilty, revenge… alone in the dark, no one hears_', they had been the only consistency in her life, the only thing that never changed, the only thing that, for better or worse, could never be taken from her.

Angela recoiled in shock when something cold and hard came into contact with her hip. Slowly her attention turned outward and the world around her came back into focus. In front of her was a large set of steel gates, above which was situated a large, faded sign, reading; Lakeside Amusement Park.

Since fleeing from James back at the apartment, Angela had wondered in a confused daze through the town, not really knowing or caring where her feet were taking her. All she had known was that something about James reminded her of something bad that had happened a long time ago, something from her childhood. It seemed with her mind occupied on the past, her feet had followed, drawing her back to one of the few, perhaps only bright spots in the dark vortex that was her memory, the eye of the storm.

Angela had come here many times as a young girl, with her mother and… This place had always held an air of enchantment for her, the sights, the sounds, the smells. But something was wrong; everything she had seen so far had been exactly as she remembered it, but Mr Timothy, the old custodian who had taken care of the park, a family friend, would never have let the gates get this rusty, or the sign go without a fresh coat of paint.

Angela squinted and pressed her face against the bars, but couldn't see much of the interior of the bricked tunnel that was the parks only entrance, so complete was the darkness that she could barely make out the ticket booths and swing gate barriers.

Peering up through the, she realised with a start, thinning fog layer, the sun was a swollen orange ball struggling to stay above the horizon.

_How long have I been wondering around?_, she thought, looking back into the fun park's shaded interior, _And why doesn't this place look the same as the rest of the town?_.

Angela pushed on the left hand gate and it swung reluctantly open with a loud screeching sound. Angela hesitated on the verge of going in, she was not by nature a decisive person and in this place there were no minor decisions.

There was a shuffling behind her, and the feeling of a rank wind, scented with the smell of old malt liquor on the back of her neck. Angela dived forward, instinctively pivoting and slamming the gate as she did so. She could see anyone beyond the rusted bars, but she had long ago realised there were things in the world that couldn't be seen, things that could get you, no matter what anyone said.

_Keep moving_, said a tiny voice at the back of her mind, _Keep moving, stay safe_.

Hugging herself for reassurance, Angela made her way to the waist high barricade and ticket slot that barred her way into the park. The dark haired girl stopped short of the gate, wondering how she would continue without a token from the undoubtedly locked ticket booth.

She felt foolish as soon as the though crossed her mind, it had been many years since she had come here and she was considerably taller. Straddling the gate she clumsily swung her legs over the barrier, feeling guilty and exhilarated in equal amounts, after all, like most people who had grown up in Silent Hill, it had always been one of her childhood dreams to have the Lakeside Amusement park all to herself, no rules.

Half fearful someone would appear to shatter her dream she jogged lightly further into the park. The main courtyard of Lakeside was devoted to greeting the crowds and emphasising the change from the mundane, to the extraordinary. Banners hung between the limited space available between neighbouring stalls that had once contained every sweet treat imaginable. Brightly coloured flags had hung from lines of string attached to the sparse poles that elevated the announcement megaphone system above the general hubbub of the crowds and everywhere you went you were never far from the parks friendly mascot, Robbie the Rabbit.

With this wonderland in mind Angela ventured deeper into the tunnel, that when lit was decorated with all manner of fanciful pictures, with growing excitement. It was with this fantastic vision in mind that reality gave Angela the psychological equivalent of a slap in the face.

As she emerged from the tunnel's mouth she was instantly aware that the place she had known as a child was gone, as faded and desolate as the rest of her memories. The few stalls that remained intact were covered in a thick layer of dirt and grim, the banners that had once hung between them lay in tatters on the floor and discoloured flags lay like fallen leaves under foot.

"No,no,no,no", Angela whispered, arms snaking around her and a familiar pattern of rocking as an act of self comfort ensuing.

This couldn't be happening, she told herself, feet guiding her forward of their own violation, everything else had been fine so why not here? Why was the one place she felt safe so, so… dead. Who could have done this? Why? Could James be responsible, was he the one who had killed her dreams, shattered her comforting illusion, just like…

Angela was suddenly aware she had stopped, her breath was warm on her arms and she realised she had her chin pressed to her chest. She also realised why she had stopped. Two small feet hovered in the upper reaches of her field of vision.

Two small, pink feet.

Two small, pink, furry feet.

Angela's lower lip began to tremble as she brought her head up with agonising slowness, tears threatening to blur her vision. Above the feet were two chubby legs, clad in plain read dungarees, the tops of which were obscured a slight paunch that was darkened by some sort thick, almost black, fluid.

Angela couldn't bear it anymore.

Wrenching her eyes upward past the flash of an all to familiar object and up to the happy, smiling face of Lakeside Amusement park's most famous mascot.

Or rather the mask worn by whoever was inside suit.

Blood dripped lazily down the thick trail formed by the original expulsion… whatever had happened to this poor soul, it had caused him to vomit blood before his death. Angela wanted to walk away, but something stopped her. It was the smell, Angela knew the scent a corpse gave off when you left it for a long time… and that smell wasn't present.

Perhaps he wasn't dead.

Reaching up with trembling hands, Angela gingerly lifted the helmet and set it aside, and found herself looking straight into the lifeless eyes of Mr Timothy.

Angela let out a mournful scream, back-pedalling rapidly, somehow managing to trend on her own foot in the process, dropping herself roughly on her rump. The old custodian's corpse stared down at her in pity or perhaps contempt, as if sorry that she had found him or rather that it hadn't been someone else. The aged man was tied to one of the speaker posts with bits of the megaphone's wires, his arms strapped to a piece of wood nailed horizontally behind his back as if to freeze him forever in the Robbie Rabbit, trademark hug.

From his chest, directly over the heart, protruded the handle of a knife, the area around it thick with blood. Next to the gruesome weapon, pinned almost casually to the strap of the dungarees, was a small, handwritten note. Standing, Angela took the note, careful not to actually touch the body and held it up to the failing light.

Her scream caused the shadows themselves to cringe, filling the silence with a cry of inhuman pain and fear, and then the world began to fade away as Angela fainted.

* * *

The first thing he was aware of was a noise.

It was high in pitch, but not in an unpleasant way. This was the pitch of birdsong on the evening breeze, tinged with sorrow, or maybe disappointment.

"James…". The noise was clearer now… no not noise, the voice, a woman's voice, "James…".

That name should mean something to him, of that much he was sure, but what and why was it so familiar.

_James?_, he thought groggily, _…my name?_. He pondered that idea, it seemed right, but there was something more important than that right now, but what could it be?

"James…". He focused on the voice, it was so familiar…

Unbidden, images of a woman came to mind, a woman with shoulder length blond hair and a smile as provocative as her sense of dress. He knew her name, he was sure he did, it began with an 'M',

_M, Ma, Mar-_.

Suddenly the image changed, her hair drew itself into a short ponytail, changing from blond to auburn as it did so, her clothes becoming more conservative, more demure, an ankle length dress with a floral pattern and a peach coloured cardigan.

_Mary!_

As if waiting for that name as a cue, the world came rushing back into his awareness. His back screamed in agony as it was trawled by claws of flame, his ribs and wrist throbbed and a blinding light sent crystal shards through each eyeball.

Slowly the sensation faded as his eyes adjusted, but the pain from his wrist, ribs and back remained. Now that he was aware, he quickly made sense of what was happening, well, as much as humanly possible.

His legs were elevated and in the grasp of something strong, the same thing he assumed, and his back concurred, that was dragging him along.

James tried to sit, to find and stop his tormentor, but his muscles refused to cooperate. His anxiety grew as he quickly realised that he couldn't move any part of his body. Fear threatened to tug him back into unconsciousness but something refused to allow him to fall back into that peaceful oblivion.

He gradually realised he could hear a new sound, the sound of a distant siren.

"James", Mary's voice came more urgently, struggling to be heard over the mounting sirens, "James I-".

Her voice was cut off by the sirens, so hypnotic that James found himself staring passively at the ceiling, or rather the blood soaked wire mesh that functioned as a ceiling. Dimly he was conscious of the fact that this ceiling didn't belong in a hospital, or in anywhere on this plane of existence for that matter.

Suddenly the view above him gave way to the clear black, mirror like surface of the night sky.

The grip on his legs was suddenly released and his heels hit the ground with a soft _thud_.

For a small life time James lay perfectly still, was he still in the hospital, still on his plane of existence, or had he finally gone to hell? Eons passed in an instant and seconds took an eternity, and as quickly as the sensation came, it passed. James flexed his fingers experimentally, growing bolder when they responded normally, perhaps he wasn't in hell after all, nothing had happened yet, but if that was true where was he?

James sat carefully upright, both to prevent his muscles and various injuries taking exception, and just in case he was wrong, so as not to draw attention to himself. James was instantly taken aback by how plain his surroundings were. Four, unadorned grey walls enclosed him, their smooth faces showed no sign of how he had been brought into the room or how his captor had left.

He stood and began to feel his way around the walls and had completed three circuits before he allowed himself to except that there was no way out. James began to pant rapidly, he had always been mildly claustrophobic, a condition that had worsened with every hour he had spent in the cramped cubical Mary had been assigned to live out her final hours, while he looked on, helpless.

"James…", came Mary's voice from behind him, the tone the mix of sorrow and helplessness that had characterised Mary's emotional state locked away in that dark hospital room.

James spun to face her, but found only a neglected doorway where he thought she stood. James felt sadness rise in him when he realised she wasn't there, a sadness that vanished as a single thought penetrated his melancholia.

There was a door, where previously there had only been seamless grey wall.

_How?_, James thought.

"I must have missed it somehow", he said out loud to block out the thoughts that tried to worm their way into his consciousness.

_There wasn't a door there_, they whispered, _You _are_ in hell… its what you deserve…_.

James shuck his head but his doubts or perhaps his common sense, persisted, _How can a door just appear, something is horribly wrong with this place, don't you feel it!_.

Reaching for the door handle that brought him up short, since when had he started talking to himself in third person? Perhaps he had finally gone mad, or maybe those things had killed him.

Looking around everything seemed normal, well, as normal as anything got in Silent Hill.

The sky was black, the air held an unnatural chill and no sound but the rasping of his own breath reached his ears. However something was wrong, something fundamental, everything felt in some way, off, as if someone had tried to reproduce everything as they felt it should look and feel and smell like, not as it really existed.

_No_, James thought roughly, getting a fresh grip on the door handle and pushing the door open, stepping through as he did so, _it's just my…imagination_.

The area in which he found himself was both better and worse than anything he had seen before. Grime and decay bathed the walls in a nearly uniform brown, almost making it seem as if that was the walls original colour, almost.

Blood covered every space not layered in grime, some of it still fresh enough to dribble down toward the floor, tracing intricately grotesque patterns, and pungent enough to start James dry wrenching.

What was worse was the floor on which he stood.

Made of a fine steel grating that seemed to be set over an infinite drop, a grating designed to allow loose material to sluice through, a grating that had obviously seen much use.

Blood covered every inch of the steel mesh, most of it leaking from the variety of corpses piled into the rooms corners, some seemingly torn limb from limb by someone or something of terrifying strength, and the others… The others were laid out head to toe to form a five-pointed star, and each of them had had their heart, eyes and tongue removed.

The way they had been killed showed that this had been done deliberately, indeed some of them still had the surgical instruments used to deform them embedded in their wounds.

James turned away, unable to bear the sight any longer, and staggered back out of the door… and back into the same room. At first James thought he had somehow turned around in his confusion and disgust, but then the details of the room began to stand out. The walls were the same, but the floor, though still soaked in blood, was made of ordinary concrete and there was no sign of the otherworldly ceremony he had stumbled onto moments earlier. An extractor fan droned fearfully in the background in a pitiful attempt to remove the feted stench from the air. That was not the only sound however, there, bellow the sound of the fan was a hissing, the familiar faltering spitting of static.

James reached into his pocket and withdrew his radio, but it remained silent, this background white noise was coming from somewhere else. There were only two doors in the room, one that led back to the garden area and the other a way back into the hospital?

Or a way back to that terrifying 'Otherworld' that he had accidentally fallen into.

James looked around the room as if hoping that something would make the decision for him, the way most things had happened since he came here… before, if Mary's mysterious letter was taken into account.

_No_, he thought vehemently, he couldn't believe that Mary was involved in whatever was happening to this town, and if someone had used her name to lure him here he would…

James shook his head, why would anyone bother, he didn't have anything of value, and especially not for someone crazy enough to cause what was happening to this town. His paranoia was understandable; he had gone too long without sleep or food, subjected horrors and a constant level of fear the human mind wasn't designed to cope with. It was a miracle he hadn't gone mad, had he?

He was talking to himself after all, and what he had just seen… No, he was loosing focus, he needed to concentrate on getting out of here or he really would go mad. The decision past he was able to relax a little, his course once again clearly set. His steps as he made his way to the far door were, though far from confident strides, notably steadier.

Pushing the door open he stepped through into the corridor in which he had found Laura, the corridor where she had nearly damned him to gruesome death on a childish whim. A corridor that was now blocked off by a hospital bed wedged roughly in between the two walls. Atop the bed, which was blood stained with a small, childlike, outline, was a medium sized TV and a VCR, the former spitting out static, the fuzzy white screen's flickering illumination emphasising the lack of lighting from any other source, transforming the corridor beyond the obstruction into a yawning abyss in which anything might lurk. As James approached the bed, the static abated and slowly the snowstorm that raged across the TV's screen gradually gave way, and the faint outline of a woman began to appear.

Gradually the image resolved itself and James was instantly struck with a sense of recognition. The room in which she stood was large and ornate without seeming gaudy, long drapes had been drawn back to allow light to pour into the room through its two huge windows, long purple drapes. The image was in black and white but James knew the colour of those drapes, he could have named the colour of every furnishing in the room, even those not shown in the image, he could name them from memory. The room he saw was room 312 of the Lakeside Hotel, the room he and Mary had stayed in every time they had visited Silent Hill.

As for the woman in the video, the woman leaning against the windowsill of the right hand window with her back to the camera, staring wistfully out over the lake, the woman in the demure floral dress and cardigan, he didn't need to see the room to know who she was.

"Mary", he said breathlessly, not caring that he said it aloud.

As if she had heard him, Mary turned away from the window, her customary ponytail swaying as she did so, her face alight with the smile he could only recall seeing when they were in Silent Hill.

"Are you using that thing again?", she said playfully, feigning annoyance, "Give it a rest already".

A cough racked her body, a cough that shattered her smile and made her seem suddenly so much frailer, a butterfly caught in an updraft. The image blurred and flickered as if the cameraman had dithered trying to decide wither to offer aid.

Soon the coughing subsided and the focus came back in time to catch Mary making her way to the seat next to the left-hand window and sit down, viewing the lake from a new angle. Such indecision had characterised him during the early days of Mary's illness, as he had struggled to find what, if anything he could do to help his wife.

"Oh Mary", he said, tears welling in his eyes to see her again before the disease had warped her body, "Where are you?".

"You know James", she said as if answering him, "I love it here, it's so peaceful, so beautiful… You know what I heard?".

She leaned forward as if imparting some deep secret.

"I heard this whole area used to be a sacred place". Mary lay back in her chair, the smile that had warmed his heart as she spoke of her interests back on her face, "Looking out over the lake like this… I think I can see why…".

James' chest tightened when she looked directly at the camera, her smile lighting her face despite the early signs of wear that marked her disease's insidious progress.

"James", she pleaded, "Take me here again someday… promise me".

Another cough racked her body and suddenly the image flickered.

"…promise me", she repeated, another cough, or maybe it was the same one as before racking her body. "…promise-", abruptly the image shifted, a blurred vaguely male outline appeared as if viewed from above, he moved forward with deadly intent… and then the image vanished, replaced by a static snowstorm.

James hit the play button furiously, where had Mary gone! Who had put this here, what cruel bastard sort amusement by tormenting a bereaved man with images of his dead wife, images no one should have had access to, he had taken that tape with him when they left… hadn't he?

James punched the eject button repeatedly but nothing happened, the tape refused to eject and as James' fury mounted, the TV cut out, plunging the corridor into stifling darkness.

Swearing to distract himself from the panic that threatened to claim him, James drew out his torch at flicked it on, this familiar behaviour acting to calm his nerves. Somehow, despite that fact that his torch gave out more light than the TV had, the darkness seemed even more impenetrable than before, the shadows deeper.

James pushed the TV's power button several times with no result. He shone the torch behind the dead box, trying to see if there were any problems with the wires.

Unfortunately, there were no wires.

He recoiled as if the TV had suddenly become a slobbering beast, hungry for his blood.

"How?", he found himself repeating dumbly, backing away and into the suddenly open lift without registering his actions. James hugged himself, babbling softly as he tried to make sense of what he had seen, his mind fractured by one strange event too many, changing his grief to hysteria.

With laboured patience the lifts failing motors ground the doors shut and the lift began to descend. Dimly something was telling him that the lowest floor this lift was listed as servicing was the first floor, but in his current state of mind the last thing he needed was more impossibilities to ponder.

Thus, when the lift clattered to a halt and it's doors ground pitifully open he barely registered his surroundings, bleak and lacking in distinction as they were. Grey walls and a single mesh fence enclosed a single door and a narrow stairway. Next to the doorway was a faded blue plaque, featuring two arrows. One pointing to the door labelled 'Patient Files' and another pointing beyond the fence labelled, 'Storage'.

James shuffled forward unenthusiastically and roughly shoved open the door, his torch illuminating a face that was instantly familiar.

"Mary!", he shouted, rushing forward joyously. When the light lit the rest of her he stopped short. Her hair was a shocking blond, tipped with red, not the gentle, natural auburn that had belonged to his wife, and her clothes, so daring and flamboyant they would never have appeared in Mary's wardrobe.

"Oh… Maria, it's you…", James said, trying to hide his disappointment, his mind already slipping away from reality once more.

"What do you mean 'it's me'!", she shouted, surging to her feet, the relief he had briefly seen on her face turning to fury, "I've been scared to death trapped down here! All you care about is that dead wife of yours!".

"I,", James began, eyes downcast with shame, "I'm sorry, I didn't, I mean I tried to find you but… I'm sorry what can I…".

Maria threw herself against him, clutching him tightly and burying her face against his chest.

"Don't leave me alone again," she sobbed, "I was so afraid, all alone in the dark… you're supposed to protect me, why didn't you try to find me? Or at least call to me from the hole I fell down?".

James opened his mouth to explain, but in face of Maria's distress he let it fall shut, the last thing she needed was to be told her erstwhile protector had lost his mind.

"I'm sorry", he whispered softly to her, gently stroking her hair until her sobs subsided, "I'm sorry".

* * *

---Author's Notes---

One more down and plenty to go, how do you all like it so far? Onward to Chapter 4: Spiral

Till next time, Betweenheavenandhell


	4. Chapter 4: Spiral

**A/N**: Thanks to the one reviewer I've had so far, I appreciate the sentiment and I promise I'll try to continue to work on this story, though the speed will depend entirely on review levels to make this little tale a priority.

On with the Show:

Chapter Four: Spiral

When Maria had calmed herself there was an awkward silence as she paced around the perimeter of his torchlight trying to restore her dignity and carefree spark. Maria didn't seem ready to speak to him yet so he contented himself by examining their surroundings if for no other reason than to hold off his own troubling thoughts.

The room contained nothing more interesting than a few disused, and mostly empty, filing cabinets, indeed nothing seemed out of place, and there was no sign of the gut wrenching rot that had infested the hospital after his… his what, his _episode_?

That thought filled him with sorrow, he had almost hoped that Maria had experienced _something_ like the events that had occurred around him. That she would tell him something that would prove he wasn't mad, but she had said nothing.

That made him want to laugh, to laugh until his mind snapped and what was left of him faded away… perhaps then he could finally be with Mary…

Opening another cabinet on a whim he shone the torch briefly about its interior, fully expecting to find nothing more than another empty draw. Inside was a single file, so bright and new against the draws stark interior, that it made him irrationally suspicious.

Had someone planted this file here? Were they the same people determined to drive him out of his mind?

"Earth to James". James brought his head up, suddenly startled out of his paranoid musings, and found Maria staring straight at him, her expression slightly concerned.

"What's wrong?", she asked, peering over his shoulder to see what had caught his attention, "Anything interesting?".

"I don't know", he said, lifting the file out of the draw with exaggerated care, aware that Maria was looking at him slightly perplexed. Ignoring her he opened the file and held its pages to the light:

Patient Name: Jason Philips

Case History: Delusions of grandeur, frequent hallucinations

Doctors Notes: Jason his under the impression the everything revolves around him,

that all events that transpire do so as part of the will of some dark

power that seeks to destroy him. Jason often quotes biblical passages

as if they prove his delusions, this is the only constant throughout his

disorder. Jason has twice accused me of being in league with 'Him',

though when questioned he refuses to say who 'He' is, and refers to his

room as 'Purgatory'. I also found this poem taped to the underside of

his bed.

James removed a separate piece of paper, paper clipped behind the first:

_She is an angel no one knows only_

_I can see the Lady of the Door_

_they cannot walk along her Bridge_

_of Thread they fall from the weight_

_of their crimes._

_Like bloated and ugly corpses_

_their sins she devours them_

_sin and sinner alike she saves_

_me she is an angel._

Scrawled at the bottom of the paper were the words: _If you wish to leave this world behind then all you must do is ascend to the place were sinners await judgment, from there all you need do is hope you do not fail the lady's test… only the pure of heart and soul will pass. If you fear that this is not the case, (And I assure you James, you will do well to heed my words), then remember… all women are partial to gifts, as I am sure you know James._

_(Your Guide to the innerworld)_

There was a resounding _clang_ as something small and round slipped out from between the pages of the file and dropped to the floor. Landing on its side it object rolled in a small circle before collapsing at James' feet.

James looked behind him, but Maria had resumed pacing and didn't notice anything amiss.

Gripped by another sudden burst of paranoia, James quickly stooped to grab the ring shaped object and stuff it into his pocket. Feeling both calmer and slightly foolish as soon as it was out of sight.

"Anything interesting", asked Maria again as he turned around, his hand still in his pocket.

"No", he responded defensively, cursing himself silently and getting a tighter grip on the ring.

They regarded each other for a long moment until Maria began to grow impatient.

"So", she prompted, "what now?".

She ploughed ahead without waiting for him to reply.

"What about Laura?", she asked as if she had been trying to find a way to bring this subject all along, "Did you find her?".

James opened his mouth but found himself saying, "No".

He didn't want to revisit those memories even in passing, besides, he couldn't be sure any of it had ever happened. Maria's face twisted with concern and… worry? From Maria?

"I don't know why", she said, not quite looking at him, "but I'm really worried about her. I mean, I've never seen her before but… I feel like it's up to me to protect her… I can't explain it. We need to find her James, she's all alone here".

There was a sincerity and vulnerability to her gaze that forestalled any answer he might have made. This was a new side to Maria, where was the flamboyant, slightly arrogant woman who had spent her time wondering around the twisted landscape of this town of the damned without losing her carefree streak?

Perhaps in the end, this town changed everyone.

Perhaps if he ever found Mary again, she would be nothing like he remembered.

Maria coughed roughly to get his attention, or at least he thought that was the reason. Maria wasn't even looking at him, she held one hand in front of her mouth, while using the other to support herself against a nearby wall. Pushing away from the wall she reached into the one small pocket her skirt permitted and withdrew a small foil packet.

She fumbled with it for a few seconds before she was able to pop a small white capsule free of its wrapping and onto the palm of her hand.

Snapping her head back as she did so, she swallowed the pill in a single shuddering gulp, visibly trying not to wrench as her coughing subsided.

"Maria", he said, darting forward in alarm, to support her as she slumped against the wall.

"I'm fine", she said, dismissing her weakness without thought, hiding her hand as she did so, but not quick enough to stop James seeing the fine splattering of crimson which stained it, "I'm just tired, that's all".

"No, it's more than that, what are you taking pills for?", he asked cautiously, his expression his best imitation of a man who would brook no lies.

Maria stiffened, some of her old attitude resurfacing, "What are you going to do if I don't tell you?"

James frowned at her tone, surely she didn't think…

"Maria, I didn't mean to sound-".

"Whatever," she cut him off rudely walking away from him and opening the door, "It doesn't matter. Lets just get out of here and find Laura".

Not waiting for him to answer she walked out, allowing the door to start swinging shut behind her. James ran to the door and flung it open with so much force it slammed into the opposite wall, startling Maria enough to make her spin to face him.

James flushed with embarrassment and guilt, he hadn't been thinking about her safety when he had rushed out here, no, he had been thinking about what he would do if she vanished again, if he was pulled once more into that, Otherworld.

If it existed… perhaps with someone to take care of he could stave off the strange madness that was trying to secure a hold on him. Yes, right then and there, looking at Maria as she tried to hide her amusement, his face bright red, he vowed to get her out of here no matter what happened.

"I, erm, I", he faltered, trying to find a plausible excuse for his haste.

"I think we should go," he glanced over at where the elevator had been, and found only smooth grey wall staring back, "…upstairs?".

"Well we aren't going to get out down here are we", Maria responded, turning away and heading up the stairwell as if she had spent her entire life in this hospital and knew exactly where she was going.

James was once again left with no choice but to trail along behind her and try to maintain his dignity.

Maria smiled over her shoulder at him in the way she did, the way that made him feel as if he was on fire, from the first floor landing and pulled at the door. It didn't move. Maria's smile faltered for a second as she studied the door with surprise.

Getting a double-handed grip as James ascended the last of the intervening stairs, she tugged at it again and again but it stubbornly held its ground. Maria's smile was back, but as she threw everything she had into trying to open the door, it took on a grim, almost hysterical appearance.

"Maria", he began gently, but she didn't seem to hear him. She continued to pull at the door, her desperation becoming clearer with each movement. James reached out to stop her, intending to put a reassuring hand on her shoulder, and watched numbly as his hand passed straight through her shoulder as if she wasn't there… or as if he wasn't.

James' breathing was suddenly laboured, every breath an incredible effort. The walls around him began to change, mould and rot creeping up them in vein-like patterns that spread, grew and joined with terrifying ease.

A thick dark red, almost black, ichor began to seep through the floor as if the stone had pores, running in pools toward him as if he drew it toward him some how.

"Maria!", he shouted in terrified desperation, not expecting her to hear him but unable to come up with a better idea as the blood flowed after him, slowly, almost contemptuously, as if it knew he had no escape.

"What?", Maria demanded irritably, turning to face him.

_You can see me!_ he wanted to cry, _Then you must see…_.

His thoughts trailed off when he looked around. All traces of decay where gone, it was as if everything he had seen… had never happened.

That settled it, he was mad.

Oddly he didn't feel concerned, only sad, he had failed Maria before he started, how could he protect her if he could tell whether the danger was real or not?

Maria waved a hand in front of his face, "Hello, James, what did you want?"

Coming from Maria that statement had a strangely suggestive connotation, but James wasn't in the right frame of mind to acknowledge it with banter of his own.

"I…", he struggled to pull his thoughts together, if nothing else he should at least try to succeed in giving her a coherent answer, "erm… let me try that".

Maria stepped wordlessly aside and gestured for him to try all he liked.

With a clear sense of purpose, in the short term anyway, James was able to hold his thoughts in line and make his body, much to his surprise, perform the required actions. Stepping forward and establishing a secure, two-handed grip on the doorknob, he twisted it and pulled as hard as he could. Falling flat on his backside as the doorknob snapped clean off in his hand, sealing the door forever.

James starred at the knob slack-jawed as Maria's head came into view above him.

"Nice job", she drawled sarcastically, taking the doorknob out of his hand and throwing it down the stairs, "Really great".

Walking around him, she helped him to his feet and crossed her arms in front of him, looking for a split second, even more Mary's twin.

"We go up and try the elevator?", he offered pitifully with a shrug.

Maria rolled her eyes ruefully.

The second floor also refused to budge and a strange grating blocked the access to the roof. Luckily the third floor door swung open as if it had been oiled minutes before their arrival, so James was spared the daunting task of trying to figure out how the grating had just materialised out of thin air.

The corridor outside the door was as seemingly deserted as the rest of the hospital but he still had trouble calming his frayed nerves. So it did him no good when Maria spotted the first of the arrows.

Scrawled in white chalk, they guided them, against James better judgement and near hysterical protests, deeper into the semi-lit grotto that was the third floor and into the isolation ward.

Further and further they went, down corridors that seemed to have fewer and fewer functioning lights. Was that a patch of mould? Could that water stain really have gotten where it was? These were the questions that spiralled through his mind leaving him jumpy and light-headed.

All to soon they came to a stop outside rusted door marked with the fading numerals 3 1 2.

"What now?", he asked nervously; unconsciously dry washing his hands and glancing frantically up and down the corridor.

"I guess we go in", Maria said as if she didn't notice his behaviour. Pushing it roughly open she waited for him to follow, shining his light ahead of her to light her way.

The walls were covered in a plain white padding, the floors and ceiling a soothing, if somewhat faded, cream tiling. The room's only furnishings were a medium sized cot and a small bedside cabinet with round corners that had obviously been ground down with sandpaper to remove any edges.

"Here we go", said Maria from near the door, flicking a small switch and bathing the room in a harsh neon glow.

The room seemed even emptier without the shadows to conceal its Spartan look, like the personification of its occupants, void of hope or purpose. Under the merciless glare of the artificial lighting it was possible to make out something tucked into the corner.

Of all things, a moderately sized refrigerator looked desperately out of place.

Humming dutifully even though it had been placed on its back, hinge side facing into the room, it was so uncanny that even Maria looked vary for a second, but her usual mischievous smile came back so quickly he couldn't be sure.

"Well", she said playfully, smiling at him, "If there's some champagne and glasses in there perhaps this place isn't so bad after all".

As if unaware she had spoken he found himself drawn to the steel box, something inside called to him. Standing over it he grabbed the handle roughly and gave a mighty heave.

The door moved a few grinding inches before stopping, making a screeching statement of defiance when he tried to open it further.

"Maria", he called hoarsely, his eyes burning with a passionate fever he couldn't explain. He needed to get this box open, inside was a way to leave, a way to save Mary, and maybe himself. Of course it was possible he was wrong, that whatever was inside would lead only to his doom, either way he had to know.

"Maria", he repeated, "Help me with this, I can't open it alone".

"Really", said Maria, crossing her arms and pacing toward him, her tone was still playful, almost coy, but her body language suggested scorn, "You're supposed to be the big man around here. How's a little girl like me supposed to help?"

James glared impatiently but didn't look up.

"Just help me", he hissed.

Maria's brow beetled with surprise but she didn't say anything else.

_Interesting_, James thought distractedly, mentally cataloguing the phenomena for later use.

With their combined strength, James and Maria were able to heave the lid open. A soft mist whispered out of the refrigerator, dropping the temperature of the immediate surroundings by several degrees.

James was unsure of what he had expected to find, but he felt let down by what he did.

Inside, was a small metallic band, and a piece of paper.

James picked up and examined the paper while Maria stooped to retrieve the ring. Part of him recognised that he should have taken the ring before Maria found it, but he felt more compelled by the paper.

Turning it gently in his hands, he squinted to make out what was written on it.

The paper was blank.

He turned it over and over in his hands, searching desperately for a message, something that would explain why he thought this note was so important.

Nothing.

James felt oddly dejected, as if someone had forgotten his birthday, or as if he'd just been fired from work.

"Uck", Maria said, holding the ring she had found out for his inspection, "How ugly… here James, you have it".

James held up his hand dumbly, his attention and disappointment still fixed on the paper as Maria held her hand above his, opening it strangely slowly and allowing the ring to tumble end over end onto his palm.

As the cool steel struck is palm, fire and ice lanced up is arm, setting off silent explosions behind his eyes. From his pocket, crimson lightening arced his back, stretching his face in a death-mask grimace.

"James!", Maria called in concern, rushing to his side, her voice barely discernable over the blare of distant sirens.

James' knees folded beneath him, and he would have collapsed if Maria had not steadied him. Somewhere amongst the sirens, Maria screamed. As soon as she touched him she let out an inhuman wail, her fingers digging into his chest and shoulder in a way that may have hurt him at another time, but the torrent of pain that scoured his mind left little room for other concerns.

The floor rushed up at him, striking his head with amazing force. Before the world plunged into darkness he felt another body hit the floor nearby, and then he was swallowed by a fiery oblivion.

* * *

James woke slowly, an all to familiar pain throbbing behind his eyes and a coppery tasting liquid oozing from his nose and mouth.

James lay there for a long time before, concentrating solely on not choking to death on his own blood before he was ready to try and lift himself.

Letting his head hang limply on his neck, James pushed himself wearily to his knees, blood dripping lazily from his swollen lip and tender nose. James tried to stand but was shoved roughly back to his knees.

His first thought was that he had been pushed, but it quickly became clear that he simply didn't have the power to stand.

Crawling pitifully around like animal, he found Maria, unconscious but seemingly unharmed, slumped against the remains of the cot.

_Remains?_, James thought groggily.

The cot had been find just seconds ago, but now it had folded in on itself, the mattress was burned in the centre as if someone had attempted to set it alight and only partially succeeded. James tried to resist, but his head came up of its own accord. The cot was not the only thing that had changed.

The floors and walls were cover in cracked brown and black tiles, materials obviously designed to inflict pain rather than prevent it, to which the variety of bloodstains was testimony.

The broken windows stood out against the black night like jagged fangs, covered by a mesh brace.

As the ache in his skull began to recede, a burning sensation grew in his palm. Holding up his hand in the dim light provided by the faltering neon panel overhead, he found the thing that had caused this transformation.

The ring was sunken into the soft flesh of his hand, the area around it burned red and angry.

Reaching out carefully he probed it with one finger.

The pain caused by touching it was immense but the ring lifted clear of the charred and bloody groove it had made with relative ease. Clattering noisily to the ground it rolled away before coming to rest atop a small piece of paper.

James shuffled over to the ring, pocketing it absentmindedly as the writing on the tiny square caught his eye.

_Wasn't the paper blank?_, a small voice, what was left of James sanity perhaps, asked. Fighting his eyes sudden desire to wander, he focused on the writing:

_I lost them. _

_My gifts for her, the only things that might have saved me._

_I'm not innocent you know, they were right to put me in here._

_But maybe I can help you…Sometimes when I'm here I can leave things behind and they appear in the 'Real' world where you are, it seems that it helps if they are bigger, it makes it easier to push them out of… here._

_The fridge was the only thing I could find that might make it through the process intact and get someone's attention, so I hid this note inside to warn others away. This is a place of madness and pain, a place where too few can define the barrier between here and… there. For that reason it finds it easier to take us, to that place beyond the veil wher- No! I can't do this long, make sense, this place makes it better at first but then… Look run away! But if you can't, find the rings, she likes gifts… my Lady awaits. _

A low groan turned James' attention away from the scrawled gibberish, toward where Maria lay. If his madness held true to form, the world would lurch back to _normal_, to contradict any claims he might make and deepen his paranoia, driving him over the edge.

Indeed, as he glanced back at his hand he found that the note had vanished… but the blackened groove in his palm remained.

As Maria's eyes fluttered open the evil around him remained tangible, perhaps held there and given solid form by his madness.

_It's not changing, why isn't it changing?!_

Maybe there was another reason, the note, had he infected Maria when his condition had gripped him again somehow? Was that why the world was not set to rights by Maria's presence?

Had he given her his madness like a contagion, so that now there was no one who could discern what was real, no one to keep the darkness at bay?

Maria sobbed softly, clutching her head in both hands and whimpering as if recovering from a bad hangover.

"What happened?", she asked, her voice still dazed as she looked around the transfigured room, "Where did you move us to?".

James sat there mutely. He felt that he should have attempted to ease her into the extremity of their predicament but he wasn't sure how to answer her first question. He felt intuitively that this… change, was somehow linked to his terrifying delusions.

The note he had read, if it had ever existed and was not simply a manifestation of his intuition, had made it clear that there was something preying on this town. Preying on those with troubled minds, whose instability seemed to give it a foothold on them, allowing it to drag them here, to Otherworld, or at the very least allowing them to see it.

With each person it claimed it must grow stronger somehow, allowing it to send the creatures of Otherworld to this world, where their presence would shatter the boundaries of reason that kept it from the hearts of others. With him, a broken man, there to weaken those barriers, it had reached across to the _real_ world and dragged Maria with him, perhaps meaning to likewise break her for the same unfathomable reasons.

If that was true then his mere presence was aesthesis to Maria's well being, he had failed her simply by staying nearby.

If she was to survive, he decided, then he needed to get her out of here, and then to leave her. He knew that the thing she feared the most was being alone, she had made that abundantly clear, he knew that abandoning her would hurt her, maybe even break her enough that he would no longer be required to doom her, but that was assured if he stayed.

If he could get far enough away then maybe his corrosive existence would taper off, allowing her to reassert the barriers of logic and reason that would protect her from the majority of Otherworld's malice, perhaps giving her a chance at escape.

"James", Maria's voice cut through his silence, fear of abandonment vying with a desire to be far away from the person who might have caused her misery, whose blankness reminder her of her worse fear.

"I…we…", James' voice seemed inadequate to the task of comforting her, and he could find no words to express the horror he had pulled her into, a fate worse than being lost and forgotten.

"James…", she trailed off, unsure how to approach him when she needed reassurance herself.

James stood quickly for the simple reason that if he had done so slowly he would have tottered and fallen, startling Maria, causing her to look up at him fearfully as if he had threatened her need with violence.

James felt his legs weaken, tears fighting to come out, with the unforgivable betrayal he planned to save her by making her face her worst fear, she at least deserved what kindness he could offer.

Holding out a hand, he hazarded a shaky smile, "Maria… Welcome to hell".

Maria froze, her hand bare centimetres from his own, and a look of sickened terror on her face. Grasping her hand he hauled her to her feet before she could resist, feeling a brutal cruelty behind his kindness, almost as if a part of him wanted someone else to suffer as he had only begun to. Someone to take his place.

That thought sickened and excited him, someone to take his place… No, she didn't deserve that, did she? That Maria was no Mary was clear, she probably did things that would have made timid, gentle Mary blush with shock and indignation, things that had earned her a place here.

What was he thinking! His father had thought things like this, seen women as somehow less than human, but no part of him resided in James, did it? Was this place calling to it?

James shook his head roughly, scaring Maria as he viciously struck himself with his free hand but didn't release her, even as he stumbled. The last time his mind had threatened to run away with him like this he had stopped it by giving himself a series of defined tasks.

His first should be to calm Maria, and find a way out. Locking his arm at his side he tried a weak smile which only intensified Maria's fear, redoubling her attempts to break free of his grip.

"Maria", he spoke into her rising panic, forcing his mouth to articulate his intent, his voice sounding distant and cruel even to himself.

"Maria, we'll be fine. I need to get you out of here. If I don't, bad things will happen".

His voice sounded uncharacteristically sinister, or had it always been that way. The bloated evil that infested the town in this reality was eroding his sense of self.

Maria seeming to shrink back, not in cowardice, but in defiance, as if daring him to do his worst.

_No, No_, he thought desperately, _She doesn't understand_.

"Maria", he tired again, trying to make his tone gentler, "We need to leave, I've been here before… I think, maybe. Look, if I'm right then this isn't a place you want to be, let me… Let me help you".

Maria tensed as if planning to run, taking her chances against this strange new world rather than continuing to travel with a man of dubious intent.

Slowly her resistance began to crumble, until her arm went limp in his grasp and he felt it safe to release her.

"Maria", he began, still moderating his voice, "We need to leave, if this is like last time… Lets just get out of here".

Opening the door he poked his head cautiously out into the corridor.

The hallway was as warped as the room, cracked, mould covered tiles adorned its length accompanied by a liberal quantity of blood, dry and fresh, some of it still leaking from the dirty, shrouded forms lying on several abandoned gurneys.

James groaned inwardly.

The sight would undoubtedly sicken Maria and they couldn't afford the delay her vomiting would cause. Growing impatient, Maria knocked him aside before he could stop her and stepped into the corridor.

Her eyes went wide as saucers as she took in the scene before her, her mouth opening to release a scream.

Darting forward James clamped a hand over her mouth, muffling her cries as she tried to break free, her eyes rolling wildly.

James found himself humming softly to her. He didn't recognise the tune but it probably didn't matter, if he failed to calm her down there was no telling what kind of monstrosity she would attract.

Eventually her energy began to ebb and her screams stopped.

James continued to rock her and hum until she came back to herself enough to be irritated by his behaviour. Shrugging off his embrace, she took a couple of hesitant steps down the corridor, holding her stomach to help contain her lunch.

James shuffled after her, nervously scanning the halls while keeping close enough to stop her screaming again or to catch her if she fainted, which by the way she swayed when she saw a new patch of blood or lump of rotting flesh poking out from beneath the tatter remains of a sheet, could be any time.

* * *

On they went, jumping at every distant noise or imagined movement, until Maria brought them to a halt in front of the most bizarre thing James had seen so far.

The door outside which they stood was decorated by an amazingly life like mural of a red robed woman reaching out as if to comfortingly embrace the pair. However, where her arms should have been drawn, someone had stuck a pair of mannequin's arms, lending a disturbingly three-dimensional quality to the whole image.

"James…", Maria began quietly trailing off as her mouth worked silently for a moment.

James only nodded dumbly as he stepped forward, placing himself instinctively between her and the door.

He reached out cautiously to touch one of the arms, jerking it back as he made contact.

"What is it?", Maria asked.

"The arm… it's, warm… I think it's alive"

"How can it be alive?"

"I don't know"

James poked at the grotesque decorations with morbid curiosity, noting as he did how the flesh discoloured wherever he touched, returning to normal moments later. He also saw two small bands of rot, on the third finger of both hands.

Two small, perfectly uniform bands, the kind left behind by say a wedding ring...

Automatically his hand went to the band left behind by his own wedding ring when it had finally become too painful a reminder of his loss to wear, his fingers brushing the groove burned into his palm as he did so.

Reaching into his pocket, he removed the two rings he had found, placing one over each area of rot.

Despite the situation, the action reminded him vaguely of the day he had proposed to Mary, though he could only wish for that gentle summer now, and the sense of happiness and peace he had felt at the time.

There was a loud click and the door vanished.

James blinked in shock; the door hadn't swung open or slid into a hidden panel, but vanished as if it had never existed.

James stepped forward, shining his torch into the darkness beyond the doorway to reveal a set of unlit stone stairs. The torch didn't reach down to the bottom however, leaving their ultimate destination engulfed in a brooding shadows.

He couldn't shake the troubling feeling that something was lurking in that darkness, waiting for him, taunting him with the path to salvation.

"James?", Maria's panicked voice brought him back to himself and he was shaken to see that he had taken several steps toward the beckoning shadows while lost in thought.

"What choice do we have?", he asked, aware only vaguely of Maria's response as he allowed himself to be draw back into the dark's all embracing presence. It would be so much simpler wouldn't it? To allow himself to succumb to this madness and be swallowed whole, at least his sorrow would be at an end… and Maria would be alone once more.

No, he needed to save her first, then he could rest.

The steps echoed an eerie duet as they traced a winding path down, closer to the malevolent presence that awaited them.

It was almost a disappointment when they reached the bottom and found… nothing, just a plain grey corridor.

"Well?", Maria asked into the silence; the impatience that so characterised her voice of late grating on James' tenuous self-control.

James' hands balled into fists as he spun to face her, his angry words freezing in his throat as his torch illuminated the shadowy figure behind her.

Garbed only in a burned plastic trench coat, a gigantic mass or tortured steel where its head should have been, the creature loomed over her, a primitive spear clutched in its malformed hand.

The Pyramid Head was back.

Grabbing her arm, James thrust her down the corridor ahead of him, shouting, "RUN!", giving her a shove before taking off after her.

If Maria was surprised, or if she questioned his sudden panic he never knew, there was an inhuman scream from behind him, followed by the _thud_ of heavy feet on concrete as the thing gave chase.

For a long time James ran blindly, aware only of the fire that scorched his lungs and the way the light danced on the fake leather of Maria's skirt as they ran for their lives. On they ran, down twisting, ever narrowing corridors of grey broken only by the occasional rusted and dripping pipe. The thing behind them never flagging in its murderous pursuit.

Then James saw it, doors ajar, artificial light spilling out like ethereal arms reaching out to embrace the terrified pair and whisk them to safety.

For that instant, the elevator was a mechanical angel as far as the blond man was concerned.

It was at that moment it happened, the event that would haunt James from that moment on.

A piece of debris, left when or by whom they would never know, lay in Maria's path. She let out a short shriek as her boot clipped it, sending her sprawling to the ground.

James somehow missed the debris but was moving too fast to avoid Maria.

He winced when she cried out as his foot connected with her stomach and he was sent into a headlong tumble, his legs flashing by overhead as he rolled to a halt inside the lift.

He lay there, head spinning, blood dripping from where he had somehow cut his forehead open, completely unable to move.

If not for the blood curdling scream that proceeded his tormentor he might have simply lain there and allowed himself to slip away from consciousness.

James hauled himself up, barely able to see as his eyes kept trying to close against his will.

He saw Maria drag herself upright and then the doors began to close and everything went into slow motion.

_The elevator!_

He had rolled into the elevator when Maria tripped him. Surging forward, he tried to brace the doors as they ground closed with hydraulic strength.

With less than a hand's breath to go Maria reached the doors, throwing her own strength against them as they continued their grim march toward sealing her fate.

Behind her the creature had slowed to a gradual saunter, its writhing motions betraying the excitement it obviously felt at having its prey trapped and helpless before it.

James poured everything he had into opening the doors but could do nothing to halt them, if he continued all that would happen would be that he lost his fingers when they finally closed.

Maria was weeping openly now, babbling incoherent pleas for him to protect her, to save her before it was to late. Desperate, James was screaming obscenities at the doors, as if he could force them open by shear force of will.

Tears blurring his vision, he looked into Maria's eyes, the stark terror and dependence twisting his gut and filling his mouth with the bitter taste of failure.

_Help me_, she mouthed, the final, heart-wrenching thing she would ever utter.

* * *

When the blood hit James, it came as such a shock that he failed to react.

The spear tip glinted with obscene crimson beauty from the centre of her chest, causing her to vomit blood as the shock caused her to expel the contents of her shredded lungs.

Something in James broke at that moment, the anger, pain, sorrow and bereavement that he knew he should have felt, the feelings still fresh from the death of his wife, crashing through his psyche in an instant, leaving him emotionally barren, all trace of the man he used to be gone in an instant.

James watched, unfeeling, as the spear vanished, allowing Maria's corpse to fall to the floor, the life so clear and vibrant in her eyes gone, leaving only the beseeching expression she had died with etched onto her features for all time.

James watched uncaring, an observer in his own mind as his body slunk to the floor, tears flowing freely from his bloodshot eyes.

The doors slid shut the rest of the way silently, almost respectfully, leaving him alone with his grief.

His head hung limply between his legs, his eyes locked on the blood that covered his hands and formed a dotted pattern across his jacket as the elevator rumbled to life.

He remained that way for a long time, his only companion the quiet vibrations of the lift as it carried him to safety… alone.

He had failed. He had sworn to protect her, to keep her safe until he could leave her, protecting her from the corrosive madness that had him in its thrall.

Another woman he had cared about that he had failed to save.

There was a quiet, jovial _ping_ and the doors slid open, his destination reached. James didn't move, if anyone had seen him at that moment, almost perfectly still, covered in blood, they might have mistaken him for one of the corpses that littered the town.

_Maria…_

"_Tuttuttut_, giving up so quickly?".

A shadow fell over James, its shape somehow conveying disappointment and the voice he recognised as that of his mysterious guide.

"Pull yourself together my boy, this place hasn't begun to test you and you don't want to fail if you can avoid it… trust me".

"Go away", James breathed, watching Maria's blood dry on his hands, "Just leave me alone".

At first the shadow seemed inclined to argue but apparently changed its mind.

"Fine, wallow in self-pity until you rot for all I care... but if there's even a shred of you that still cares, your young lady is still waiting for you"

James still didn't look up.

"The present..." the shadow sighed, "everyone's always so caught up in the present, as if it means anything at all, a fleeting moment gone in an instant... it's the past which matters, the past which shapes both present and future, some this towns greatest tragedies…", the shadow paused, drawing a shuddering, painful breath, "… were caused by people forgetting the past, that's why so many of us in this town like the park, such a peaceful reminder of our sorrows, somewhere we can pray for salvation... go there, you may find some peace of mind..."

* * *

--- Author's Notes---

And there we have it, chapter 4 complete. Now, I know that some people have expressed concern in reviews of the previous version and what not of the rather brisk pace at which I tend to recount this story. You see, Silent Hill has what, 3hrs of game play? Now that's including all of the time taken to complete puzzles, kill bosses, creep about darkened hallways etc etc, without ever coming into contact with the plot though this rehashed version should account for that hopefully, and you'll see more of what I mean in the next chapter, Chapter Five: Deeper Down the Rabbit Hole


	5. Chapter 5: Deeper Down the Rabbit Hole

**A/N**: Muchos Gracias for the reviews my friends, and as a reward I present this essentially filler chapter lol. Slightly shorter than normal but that's because there's not much to say about this section of the game really so I just used it as a chance to fill out some of Angela and Eddie's backgrounds, anyway, have fun:

Chapter 5: Deeper Down the Rabbit Hole

It was protesting muscles rather than any real desire to move that eventually roused James.

His limbs moved without the consent of his burnt out mind carrying him away from the elevator, down quiet dusty halls, and out of the place of _healing_ which had so scarred him.

Outside was darker than any night he had ever seen, but it barely registered, he'd seen it before, it was just an outward projection of the void in his mind. Nothing mattered anymore. Not the blood drying on his clothes, the weary ache of every muscle, the artic cold of the night air…

If one of the terrifying creatures that had stalked him since arriving in this town were to rear up before him that instant, James would have allowed it to slay him without lifting a finger.

Of course no such abomination came to relieve him of his pain.

_No, that would be to easy_, he thought bitterly, _You've taken Maria, now you're content to watch me suffer…_

James sat on the cold stone steps to the hospital, his head hanging limply between his knees, there was nothing left in this town to motivate him to move, if he was lucky, he would just freeze to death right there…

_But that's not true is it?_, something whispered, but what was it? His voice of reason? Why did it bother trying to intervene here of all places.

"Go away", he said out loud, "Just let me die"

_Mary… He said Mary was in the park… Maria is gone, but maybe Mary…_

That brought James to his feet again, if Mary was still there, still alive, then maybe he could save her before it was to late, maybe…

Maybe he could atone for all his failures so far.

Mentally calling up his map of Silent Hill, his feet lurched off into the darkness as if once more on autopilot.

"Please be safe Mary… you're all I have left"

* * *

Eddie woke in the strangest of places. The last thing he remembered he was happily eating pizza in the old bowling alley he had taken refuge in after he heard all those weird screams back in the apartment building, trying his best not to let his good mood be ruined by James and that snotty little girl, Laura, then… then he must have passed out, cause the next thing he knew he was here, some sort of run down cafeteria.

He had spent a few minutes trying to prise open the shutters; it felt like weeks since he had eaten anything and he imagined he could smell all the things that would be waiting on the other side.

Unfortunately the steel shutters had proved stronger than he, denying him the one kind constant in his life.

_Always the way ain't it?_

He had felt lethargic and despondent for a long time after that, just starring sullenly at the wall, or moping around the room aimlessly.

Eddie had thought about may things during that time, his family back home, his old man and the big sister who had taken care of him when their mother had died leaving his father a useless wreck.

His sister had been the one who'd protected him from the bullies who made his life hell, never aware that her interference just made them loath him more when she wasn't around.

The overweight slob who needed a woman to protect him. That had been how they saw him.

"Bastards", he half growled, half whined, drawing one flabby arm under his nose.

But he'd shown them in the end… hadn't he, that was why he was on the run… but what exactly had he done? Eddie's mind was fuzzy on the details before arriving here at Silent Hill and coming through the tunnel that lead into town.

He shook his head lightly, adjusting the cap his sister had brought him as a present when it came loose and allowing himself to drop where he stood.

What was he supposed to do next with no one around to help him?

It was only when it finally entered his mind to look for a way out that he found it.

It was sitting on the table nearest the doors, almost impossible to make out in the dim light.

A revolver. Polished to an almost ridiculous degree, it's six shot barrel was fully loaded and spun with an ease that showed a lot of love had gone into maintaining this weapon.

Eddie hefted it, admiring its weight and balance, but most of all, the impossibly familiar feeling of power it gave him. He had felt this before… but where.

Images flickered briefly through his mind: a dog, a boy about his age crying and screaming in rage and pain, all over lain by barking and a cruel, hollow laugh that chilled and excited Eddie in ways he couldn't explain.

He felt sure he'd heard laughter like that before, in fact, he knew he had. He had heard that type of laughter all his life from his heartless peers growing up. Those who had taunted him about his weight, stolen his things, pushed him, hit him when his sister wasn't around, all for no other reason than that it seemed to amuse them.

"Bastards", he spat with conviction this time and not a hint of weakness, waving the revolver around as if daring them to come out of the shadows to taunt him now.

There was an unreasoning rage growing in Eddie, one out phase with his normal, pliant personality that made him feel as if he was growing beyond himself in someway.

_Go with it, embrace it… You'll like it I promise…_

Eddie had no idea where the voice came from, but right now it didn't really seem to matter.

The doors to the cafeteria slammed open, and a tallish man with slicked back black hair and a blood splattered suit staggered in, not even noticing Eddie as he hastily closed the doors and began looking for something to barricade them with.

"Oh god, oh god", he babbled to himself, "All of them, all of them were… oh god"

Eddie watched him scrambling about, relishing his frenzied helplessness even as part of him urge him to go offer aid.

He felt so far removed from this panicked little man right now that it was laughable, so superior…

It was then that the man noticed him, and almost wilted with relief.

"Oh, thank god, quickly, help me barricade this door", he said, his lips barely visible under a thick moustache and his eyes wide, almost feverish.

Eddie panicked for a moment, suddenly unsure of what to do, his feeling of godliness vanishing as if it had never been, luckily the voice he had heard only moments earlier intervened, telling him smoothly and calmly what to do if he wanted to feel that way again.

Eddie levelled his revolver at the man's head, "Sit down"

The man looked at Eddie with confusion and fear, and a little of the feeling came back. Eddie smiled like a drug addict who's just got his first hit in weeks and motioned almost lazily toward the nearest bench.

The raven-haired man sat warily, his eyes flicking back and forth between Eddie and the door.

"Please", he begged, making Eddie's smile widen unconsciously, "We've got to barricade that door, they'll be hear anytime soon!"

"Shut up", Eddie said, as if pronouncing judgement from up on high.

He made sure he had a good two-handed grip on the revolver and levelled it at his victim's forehead, his hands shaking with anticipation.

"You don't have to be afraid of me", the man said pityingly, clear not understanding why Eddie's hands were shaking.

His pity cut Eddie like a knife. All his life it was the closest thing to acceptance he had ever gotten, but now rather than comforting him, it just sickened him, and his grip tightened.

"I'm not afraid", he replied, his finger slowly wrapping itself around the trigger, excitement over what he thought might happen next making his voice quaver.

"Of course your not", the other man said, licking his lips and glancing nervously at the door.

_He's just like the rest… You can hear the contempt in his voice… but you have the power to make him stop before he hurts_

Part of Eddie knew what the voice was talking about and was sickened… but another was intrigued… he could just end it now, before he was hurt, he held this stranger's life and death in the palm of his hand… and it thrilled him.

There was a scratching and mewling noise from the other side of the door and the man almost leapt out of his seat.

"They're here! Quickly we must-"

"Sit down", Eddie bellowed, some of his sense of control slipping, confusion making it hard to remember what he had been planning.

Outside the mewling changed to a loud barking, as if some huge dog were on the other side trying to get in.

Each bark seemed to grate on Eddies nerves, his fingers tightening around the grip of the revolver.

_God, why won't it shut up?!_

"Listen you stupid fat piece of shit!" the interloper screamed, only belatedly realising his mistake.

_You know what to do…_

Eddie's breath quickened, his pulse raced, and his finger began to tighten on the trigger as rage washed everything else away…

* * *

James stood outside the entrance to a place called Neely's Bar. It wasn't far from the park now, but something about this building had captured his attention. He had heard it's name before, it was mentioned in the diary of the corpse he had found, one of the few places of refuge the poor man had found in this forsaken town.

James stood pondering; should he go inside? His flashlight was all but useless in this all encompassing black, he hadn't seen any monsters since leaving the hospital, but in this darkness they could be on him before he knew it… It might be better if he spent some time here, at least until daybreak, but then again in this town who knew when that would be, and worse, what about Mary? How long could he really expect her to be safe waiting in the park all alone?

James finally decided to enter, if nothing else he might be able to find some supplies here if someone had been using it as a refuge of sorts.

The inside surprised him, it looked as if everything had been stripped out and ransacked short of the bar itself, and the bare walls covered over with newspapers.

James scanned them briefly, each one documented a tragedy of sorts; rape, murder, arson, all were accounted for on the bar's limited wall space. James wondered how it was possible to have come to this sleepy town so often and never caught mention of any of these atrocities.

A quick check behind the bar revealed some old health bars, the kind that was little more than flour and nuts glued together with what the manufacturers claimed was fruit paste but rarely tasted like anything available in nature. He forced himself to choke down one with a few belts of a well-aged whiskey to warm him up a little.

He purposely stopped and emptied the rest over the floor.

Getting drunk would be far too dangerous here, and in his current state of mind he might not have the courage to stop himself if he had the option.

He had just pocketed some of the remaining health bars, and was about to leave when he noticed the writing partially obscured by the newspaper.

Knowing full well that horror and help came in strange forms and places in Silent Hill, but feeling emboldened by the presence of substance generously labelled food now coating his stomach, or perhaps just a little intoxicated, he carefully peeled back the paper and read.

The warmth imparted by the liquor vanished as he did so:

_James, if you really want to find Mary then maybe you should just die… but then _

_again , you might be going to a place far different from her James…_

He read it again and again, trying to figure out who could have written such a crude and hateful note, who could have known he would be here to read it.

The only person thus far who had left him such scribbling had been his mysterious guide, but this hand was far to light, too feminine to belong to the sorrowful shadow he had met in the hospital.

Suddenly feeling a great need to leave, he gathered everything he had with him and headed out of the bar full speed, all sense of safety gone. This was more proof that what was happening was in someway targeted at him, and by someone who could follow his movements at will, maybe even someone who knew him somehow…

It took a long time, searching Rosewater Park before he could admit that Mary wasn't there, if she had ever been. There was no trace anyone had been there in years, despite the impossibly pristine nature of the park and all its features.

Such as the one he stood in front of right now. It was a smallish statue of a nun praying, accompanied by a footnote he couldn't quite make out, most likely a dedication of some sort, perhaps even to one of the town's many hidden tragedies as his guide had hinted.

He lent against the statue and sighed in vexation.

Had his strange guide lied? Or had Mary been forced to leave, perhaps even now running in fear of her life, pursued by god only knew what.

James wiped away angry tears and tried to figure out where she might have gone. The old man had said coming here might give him peace of mind, but all it had done was raise more questions and more worries.

James was looking up at the statue when something else about the old man's speech hit him, something about praying for salvation… could that have anything to do with this statue?

Getting up he searched around it, checking it from base to tip.

All he found was a small mound of earth near the base at the rear of the statue, almost as if something had been buried there recently.

Dignity forgotten he dropped to his knees and dug with his bare hands, once chuckling at the thought of what Mary would say when she saw him like this, covered in dirt and blood like a little boy who had been fighting, for he felt sure that whatever was buried here would help him find her.

"She'd give me the rough side of her tongue… what there was of it anyway", he muttered around a half grin, knowing that the Mary of his memories at least had never had the confidence to stand up to others often.

When his fingers scrapped the top of the box, he almost lost a fingernail because of how frantically he was digging. It was the work of a few minutes to excavate it, carefully digging around it so that he could lift it clear.

It was a small iron box, its catch so rusted that he almost couldn't open it. James didn't know what he expected to find, but once more he felt disappointed, all that was inside was an old key, the words "Silent Hill Historical Society" carefully engraved on it.

James had taken Mary there once at her insistence, she was fascinated by anything she could learn about Silent Hill, and he had suffered through one boring lecture after another for the sake of pleasing her and her hopes of learning more about the sleepy town's past.

Personally speaking James didn't like the past, it was too full of bad and tragic things; his alcoholic father, his wife's supposed death and more recently, the death of Maria, the woman he'd sworn to protect.

No the past was best left where it was, safely forgotten or at least ignored… but again, hadn't the old man said that some of this town's greatest tragedies came from forgetting the past?

But did that mean it was his past or that of the town that was important here, or was it both?

James was coming to realise that even with someone supposedly helping him, he still held more questions than answers since coming to Silent Hill… It was almost as if someone were purposely trying to hide something from him, but who and why?

James sighed heavily, brushing his hands together in a futile attempt to clean them as he worked things over in his mind.

Either way meant that the Silent Hill Historical Society would hold the answers. Of that he was sickeningly sure. He was well aware now that he was following the path someone had lain out for purpose or purposes unknown, but if at the end of that path, Mary waited for him, what choice did he have?

James slipped the key into his pocket and stood, making no attempt to dust himself off further.

_Don't worry Mary, I'm coming I promise._

* * *

Angela came too sitting in the Teacup ride, her shoulder pressing uncomfortably against one of its shattered edges.

The ride was silent now, unmoving as everything else in the amusement park, and just as sinister.

She could remember all to vividly what had made her pass out, the note. He was here somewhere, and she couldn't ever be safe again.

She had been safe while she slept, nothing had ever happened while she slept, but now she was in danger again, she had to move, had to run.

Angela stood on shaky legs and clambered over the rim of the ride, her eyes and ears constantly alert for any sign that He was near. When she found nothing she stole cautiously from shadow to shadow, quiet as a mouse and just as fearful, trying see everything at once.

Where should she go? The entrance? No, that long dark tunnel, He would love it there, it would be the perfect place for him to hide. No, she needed to go deeper into the park, to find a safe place to hide until he went away, or until someone could come to rescue her.

Like a wraith she moved across the park, hiding in booths, stalls, broken rides to regain her courage before venturing forth again, each time feeling almost obscenely reckless.

Perhaps it would be better if she just gave in… NO! Never again, she had promised that, hadn't she? Promised when… Pain wracked her skull as she tried to remember and images floated through the crimson haze, just like they had when she had touched the knife…

Late at night, a bedroom decorated with girlish flare, a young girl curled tight in her bed, trying her best to pretend she was asleep, she was safe when she slept…

_The door creaked open, light intruding harshly into the calm tranquillity of the room. A voice cruel and hard, even though slurred, "Angela?"_

Stay still, stay quiet…

"_I know you're awake Angela…", the voice moved closer, the scent of whiskey and moral rot thick in the air and on the back of her neck._

_The girl tries not to react, knowing the slightest shiver will damn her forever._

Stay still, stay quiet…

_A involuntary whimper was all it took, and events began their debauched cycle once again… but this time there would be a difference._

_As the covers were drawn back, as a demonic chuckle that fitted every aspect of the monster's diseased essence filled the air, there was a flash of silver and-_

A chilling roar filled the air, so close that Angela feared it came from the very ticket booth in which she currently sort refuge. The booth was empty save her, but that did little to ease the rising fear. This close, if he found her trapped in here like this…

_Escape!_ Her mind screamed at her, catalysing fear frozen muscles into action and lending her feet wings of terror.

Angela bolted from the booth, running blindly, changing direction only when circumstance, or another terrible cry demanded it.

Eventually her unheeding run took her back to where she had entered the park, back to where the corpse of Mr. Timothy waited to greet her.

She turned to run the other way, away from that grotesque hug, but a strong thick arm stopped her in her tracks, flinging her to the ground where a heavy foot pinned her in place before she could scurry away.

"You've been very bad Angela", a thick, slurred voice intoned ominously.

"No I-"

"No excuses", the owner of the foot cut her off harshly, his voice softening gradually, somehow making it scarier, "You did it, it was you who used that knife, did you really believe you could get away with something like that and not be punished? And look what's happened to poor old Timothy because of you, you're a bad person Angela…"

Angela writhed and whimpered, unable to think enough to reply.

"But that's ok, I've found you now, now you can make up for what you've done…"

Something rough grabbed the back of her neck and she was dragged away into the shadows. Angela begged, pleaded, promised anything if he'd only realse her… but of course, he didn't.

Her screams echoed around the silent park long after she was gone, lost somewhere in the hell of her own mind.

The only thing left to mark that she had ever been there was a small piece of paper, on which was written:

_Angela,_

_I will always be here, you can never escape me, or what you/we have done, I'm waiting for you…_

_Love Daddy_

* * *

James let himself into the old building belonging to the Historical Society without too much effort. The door swung open with the ponderous ease that let him know that, for better or worse, he was following the desired path.

Inside was almost as he remembered it, although a few item's cases had been smashed, and the contents removed. Why anyone would both looting a place like this, especially considering everything that was happening to the town was beyond him, so he paid little attention to what had been taken.

There didn't seem to be anything of interest in the first room, even the dusty old paintings were the same as those he remembered, each hinting at this secret or that, though so cryptically that no one but the artist would or could be sure what they meant.

All save for the painting that dominated the one wall in, and indeed as far as James was concerned, the Spartan room in which he found it.

Under the polished brass plate into which the title 'Day of Judgement' had been carved in cursive, was a picture of the pyramid headed creature James had seen infrequently in his time here, the one that terrified him the most.

It stood amongst a number of suspended cages, each containing a vaguely female body bound upside down to the bars, a bloody spear like the one it had used to kill Maria clutched in one stubby hand, surrounded by mist.

James all but fled from the room, unable to shake the feeling that the painting had been left for him to find, another taunt from whomever was doing all of this. If it had been intended to scare him it had succeeded.

He was reluctant to search the new room he found himself in, and indeed it proved unnecessary, for one of the small room's walls was gone, and in it's place a crudely fashioned tunnel and staircase leading into darkness.

The purpose of the staircase was obvious, it was where he had to go next if he wished to find Mary, but he hesitated.

The last time he had used a staircase like this, the last time he had willingly descended further into the darkness, Maria had been killed. Would he have to make another such sacrifice if he continued?

But what else was there to do? He couldn't turn back now, not with Mary, and possibly answers to the madness of this place ahead… but if he didn't, how could he live with the consequences of what might happen…

Before indecision could paralyse him, he thrust himself down the stairs, keeping up a confident and measured pace so as not to allow himself the opportunity for cowardice.

Whatever happened next would be on his own head he decided.

That was by no means an assurance of success however, as James should have known…

* * *

The stairway seemed to go on forever, and it became difficult to keep unwanted doubts and fears out of his mind, and he felt his new found resolve flagging.

He felt himself slowing as those fears began the insidious process of sapping his strength.

Had he not reached the bottom of the stairs so suddenly that he almost fell, he might have turned tail and run, as it was, he no longer had time for thoughts of flight.

Before him was a simple iron door, lacking engravings, pictures or puzzles of any kind. As he placed a hand on the unassuming handle, he felt that such simplicity was somehow significant, that perhaps he was getting closer to some sort of truth, some logic behind the madness.

Or maybe it was just wishful thinking. Regardless, there was nowhere to go but forward.

He swung the door aside and made to step through boldly, only barely catching himself on the doorframe in time.

There was no floor in the room beyond the door, just a gaping void into nothingness.

James hung there not moving, not speaking, barely breathing; so complete was his bewilderment.

It didn't make sense, why all this just to show him a hole?

James found himself starring into its depths, almost as if entranced. There was something down there he was sure, something both important and deadly…

"What? Why- AAAAAAAARRRRRGHHHHHHHH!", James screamed as something pushed him roughly from behind, sending him toppling into the darkness, his flailing arms failing to find purchase as the void rushed to embrace him.

"Deeper down the rabbit hole", a shadowy figure said with a mirthless chuckle, adjusting the ragged cloak about his bony old frame and coughing roughly into one claw like hand, "I'm sorry about that lad, but you've come too far now, I just hope you're strong enough to face what you've been running from…"

* * *

---Author notes---

Sorry, could resist that last bit. Anyways, progressing more smoothly than I hoped so expect the next chapter pretty quickly, longer than this one.

Also, as I said in the previous version; if anyone wants to do side stories with any of my new characters ie: Guide, Mr.Timothy, man in suit with Eddie etc, just e-mail me and we'll set something or other up.

See you all in Chapter Six: Temperance and Virtue Despoiled

Till next time, Betweenheavenandhell


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